The Crow: Care for a shave?
by xGHOST69
Summary: Sweeney Todd & the Crow Cross over. Summery is inside. ToddXOC. Rating went up to M; Later chapters will be more graphic, and mature.
1. Ch One: Prologue

**The Crow: Care for a shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC.  
**People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have taken place.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll but the title and who's it buy before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea. Oh, and a majority of the summery is from the begining of The Crow movie, except for the last sentance.

* * *

Chapter one: Prologue 

_"Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd.  
His skin was pale and his eye was odd.  
He shaved the faces of gentlemen  
who never thereafter were heard of again.  
He trod a path that few have trod  
did Sweeney Todd  
the demon barber of Fleet Street.  
He kept a shop in London town.  
Of fancy clients and good renown  
and what if none of their souls were saved  
they went to their maker impeccably shaved.  
By Sweeney,  
by Sweeney Todd  
the Demon Barber of Fleet Street."_

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened

The sky was gray, and the air was moist, which wasn't odd for a city like London. The cobble stone streets that had seen better days were now soaked, and covered in graffiti. The buildings were the only thing that hardly changed; still tall, crooked, and black with age, however there were tags on the corners and allies of these buildings. Inside almost every building was buzzing with life, unlike it was centuries ago. What used to be a high class inn was now a bar-windowed elementary school; a bakery was now a Music store; a Meat pie shop was now a tavern, while above it, which is said to be haunted, was now an apartment for two young adults.

But a far ways from that area, was one specific area that has not been touched since it was created; a near to ancient cemetery. The tombstones were broken and covered in moss and vines, the names barely noticeable in the stone. Large dead trees circled the entire cemetery, completing the abandoned look. The long branches hung over the ground, with hardly any leaves hanging on. The grass was so long it was hard to see any stones sticking out from the ground. If it wasn't for the large statue of an angel in the middle, people would've stumbled over graves of long and forgotten people.

At one particular tombstone, that was almost completely covered in weeds and vines, a crow set upon the top. It cocked his head to the side and started to pick and tear off the plants that covered up the front of the stone. With much difficulty, it was successful getting most of it off, and showing off the name that was engraved into it; Benjamin Barker, AKA Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you like it. It's a bit short, but that's because it's only the prologue. R&R please, I want to know if this is worth continuing.**


	2. Ch Two: Rising from the underground

**The Crow: Care for a shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll but the title and who's it buy before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea. Oh, and a majority of the summery is from the begining of The Crow movie, except for the last sentance.

* * *

Chapter two: Rising from the underground. 

The lone crow sat there on his spot on top of the tombstone, his beak pointing upwards as he examined the dreary gray sky. The clouds seemed to thicken over the cemetery and a rumble of lightening was heard.

Then, quite suddenly there was movement in the ground. Cocking his head towards the soil, the crow watched in curiously as the ground started to split open, causing the soil to leak through the hole it made. There was small movement within the hole that was now created, and to the crow it looked like a delicious worm to eat. Gleefully the crow hopped down from its pedestal and made a quick peck at the worm. However, it didn't feel like a worm in its beak, it was hard, not rubbery. He made a small squawk as if disappointed that he couldn't have a nice snack that night, but he kept on staring fixedly at the strange moving worm-like thing in the ground.

All of a sudden, a thin boney hand pushed through the ground forcefully, making the crow jump up and fly over to a higher pedestal, which happened to be the statue of the angel. The skeletal hand pushed its way out of the ground, exposing its arm that was too fleshless, and brown with age. A used to be white sleeve came along with the arm that was now brown due to the dirt and age; however, it held a large dark red, almost black, stain along the sides.

Not long after one full arm was up, that another had sprouted from the ground as well. Both arms, both equally free of skin and flesh, shakily pushed against the ground, causing the soil to split open wider, and the roots of the weeds and grass were now exposed to the outside world.

Eventually, with great force, the two boney arms lifted up until a light brown skull forced its way through the dirt. It was hanging low, its chin to his collarbone, with a thin once-white dress shirt slipping off his shoulder blades.

There was a great creak from beneath the skeleton, like wood snapping, which could only be the old wooden coffin that this once dead corpse lay inside. The skeleton hoisted himself, and now his brown knobby knees were sitting themselves on top of what used to be his death bed.

With great effort the aging skeleton pulled himself against a tree trunk, his ancient clothes barely hanging onto his incredibly thin form. As the moon shone against his skeletal features, his large skull looked up at the sky. He had no eyes, but somehow he could see the moon, and the twisted trees that were blocking it.

As if things couldn't get any odder, the zombie's legs started to thicken as muscle and tissue started to materialize and started to spread up his thighs, his waist, stomach, chest, and arms. Now meat and skin filled the sagging clothes, and the skull started develop features, ears, a nose, a tongue, and two very black coloured eyes. Growing at an inhumane speed, were sprouts of black curls coming from the scalp landing perfectly at his chin; a thin layer of white hair coloured itself and shone against the moon light.

The man staggered a bit trying to balance himself on his new born legs. A pink tongue stuck out and licked chapped lips, while his pale fingers grabbed blindingly at branches, and stones in aid for balancing. He turned his bare feet and wobbly started to walk towards the angel statue where the crow still was perched watching intently at the scene.

As the lightening flashed above the sky, the man stumbled after feeling a sudden rush of agony. Flashes of his past started to cloud his vision; being taken away from his wife and child, being reunited with his 'friends', his first kill, the bitch Miss Lovett, all the way to his satisfactory kill of Judge Turpin, to finding his darling Lucy dead by his hand, to the burning of Lovett... and to his death.

Hot tears threatened to escape as the man sat on his knees clutching his chest. His darling Lucy…He killed her, he killed her… How could he not have recognized her face? Her yellow hair...

_"There was a barber and his wife,  
__And she was beautiful..._

His voice was low and cracked as he tried to sing his song. The crow now flapped its wings and attended to the man as he sat on his shoulder. The man looked at the bird curiously, but continued to sing, seemingly finding his voice…

_"A foolish barber and his wife.  
She was his reason for his life...  
and she was beautiful, and she was virtuous…  
__And he was naive…_

His face saddens as he thought about holding his Lucy the last time; how her blood drizzled from the slit in her throat caused by his razor… his friend.

_**"**__That was many years ago...  
I doubt if anyone would know…"_

* * *

**A/N: Sorry if that one wasn't as interesting, but I didn't want to so much to happen after Sweeney Came back, it may be too confusing. I tried to make it as realistic as possible --- I mean, Sweeney wouldn't have flesh, since he's been dead for the passed 200 years or so; naturally he would be skeleton… As for the materialized flesh and tissue… That is merely the work of the magical crow :D**


	3. Ch Three: 21st century digital girl

**The Crow: Care for a shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll but the title and who's it buy before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Three: 21st century digital girl 

_Gabriel's Wing_ was a very popular place for the young adults that lived in or next to old Fleet Street. There was inside to the pub and a patio out front if you plan on having a dinner. It was run by a burly man named Gabriel in his mid 30s; he was about 6'7" tall, long black hair that fell limply at his broad shoulders. He was a very intimidating bar keeper, especially when it came to his two adoptive daughters, Abigail and Dawn.

The two young adults couldn't be more opposite from each other. It could be because that they were not blood related, or maybe because Gabriel had adopted them from two different environments.

Abigail Turner was the youngest, about 18 years old. Her hair was long and bleach blonde that went around his heart-shaped face and down to her ribs in waves. Her eyes were a pastel green, and eyelashes were long and curved. It was no doubt that this young lady was the eye candy to many young men. Despite the fact that she lived in a not-so-good neighborhood, Abigail was on her way to go to Oxford University for Medical care. She was an incredibly bright woman, with such proper manors that Gabriel is still baffled as to where she learned them from. It was defiantly not him, or his other adoptive daughter Dawn, and she certainly didn't learn it by the costumers that come to _Gabriel's Wing_.

Dawn Hastings, the oldest, is the complete opposite to her sister. Instead of long locks of bleach blond, Dawn had an untamed mane of dark chocolate hair that reached her shoulder blades. Though everyday she straightens it with a flattening iron, it still was wild and chaotic. Her eyes were a strange colour of silver and blue; her eyelashes were entirely fake and were much longer than any normal ones would look like. Black eyeliner was thick around her almond shaped eyes, which enhanced her penetrating stare. She was already 21 years old and has no plans for her future, other than being a waitress at _Gabriel's Wing. _Even through high school, Dawn Hastings' reputation went through a lot of rough patches. From being the school slut, to being the school rebel, to being the school druggie; truth be told she is still finding out who she is, but still hasn't kicked her bad habits.

Just like last weekend, and the weekend before, Dawn and Abigail cleaned and waited at _Gabriel's Wing. _Things were going normal, as normal can be in a place like this, but knowing Dawn Hastings, there's bound to be a fight happening.

"'Allo, lass! Care to take our orders?" Barked a middle aged man from the far corner of the tavern.

"Keep you shirt on, boys," Dawn replied nonchalantly as she made her merry way towards the table. She was sporting in her 'uniform' which consisted of a mini black plaid kilt, a tight white blouse, and a pair of girl combat boots.

"What'll have?" She asked, pulling out a pad and pen from out of thin air. The three men quickly told her their order. After she wrote them down and turned to leave one of them took his hand and gave her a swift slap on her bum. Dawn, however, didn't do as much as look over her shoulder and give him a glare.

Abigail was watching the entire scene from the bar. Once her older sister came to set the order in for the men's drinks, Abigail couldn't help herself.

"How can you let those vile men treat you like that?" She scolded whilst glaring at the group of womanizers.

"I got used to it, I suppose," she said as she watched the door to the tavern open and seeing a distraught looking man in a dirty old trench coat awkwardly making his way to an isolated table. Dawn kind of zoned out when she was watching this dreary looking man, and then she quickly snapped out of her daze and looked at her sister.

"Besides I like the attention," she gave her a winning sheepish smile and slapped the order on the counter.

"But why?" Abigail asked as she took the paper, and read over the drinks.

"I dunno, I guess it's just the kinda girl I am, really."

"I guess that's true, considering you've done a lot worse than let a man slap your arse…" Abigail replied as she mixed up the cocktails, and pilled out a couple of bottles of beer.

Dawn smirked at her and turned around to gaze once more at the people residing inside _Gabriel's Wing_.

(This song is called _21__st__ Century Digital Girl_, by Groove Coverage)

_"I got Breast implants,  
paid by my boyfriends.  
I got a botox injection under my skin,  
I only play with sex, but I don't let them in!_

Dawn began to sing as she grabbed the drinks from Abigail, who only watched in amusement. Dawn flirtatiously walked over to the table of men with their drinks in her hands, as she continued to the next verse.

_"I got fake nails, don't answer e-mails.  
I am a silicone valley walking on two legs…,  
_

After handing the drinks one by one, she sat on their table, and wrapped her legs around one of men's waist and sang,_ "What's the price of the world? I can write a check!" _Pushed his chair with her boot and slipped of their table and sang the chorus…

_"Cause I'm a 21st Century digital Girl,  
I don't know how to love, but I live in this world.  
My daddy is a workaholic millionaire, my mom is on drugs,  
but I don't really care!_

_Yeah, yeah, yeah!_

She crawled up on a young man's lap, and straddled his hips. "_I got a pussycat," _she purred, causing him to smirk, which quickly disappeared as she finished the verse, "_right in my Gucci bag," _and climbed off his lap, and back on the floor.

_"I've got a first-class-ticket, everything's permitted,  
cause I can have it all!_

_"Cause I'm a 21st Century digital Girl,  
I don't know how to love, but I live in this world.  
My daddy is a workaholic millionaire, my mom is on drugs,  
but I don't really care!_

_Yeah, yeah, yeah!_

Dawn got on tables, and began to dance erotically, taunting the men in the tavern, as well as making the women inside jealous. Abigail couldn't help but stand behind the bar counter and chuckle a bit at her sister's promiscuous behavior.

_"21st Century Digital Girl,  
21st Century Digital Girl,  
21st Century Digital Girl,  
21st Century  
DIGITAL GIRL!"_

"That's all well, but could you get back to work, Hastings?" Dawn was crawling on top of the bar counter when Gabriel came in from the back room and had witnessed the last few seconds of Dawn's little solo.

"Yes, sir," she smiled sheepishly and slid off the counter.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and turned back in the back room. Dawn gave her sister a sideways glance, who laughed a bit and continued to make drinks.

* * *

**A/N: Well that was a little introduction on who the main characters are. The plot will start soon enough, if not in the 4****th**** chapter, then the 5****th****, promise. **


	4. Ch Four: No Place Like London

**The Crow: Care for a shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll but the title and who's it buy before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Four: There's no place like London 

With much difficulty, the very alive and very confused Sweeney Todd stumbled his way through the thick wood. He never remembered the cemetery being surrounded with such a dense forest, but he also never remembered normal human beings being raised from the dead either.

His barefoot got tangled with an exposed root, causing him to stumble and fall onto the something considerably hard. A groan escaped his white lips, so he picked up his arms and pushed himself from the curiously hard ground. He stood on top of the solid base; it was the colour of black, and it felt like rough rock under his feet. He looked around and saw the black ground stretch a far way to the right of him, as well as his left. He took another step, testing if it was safe, and after seeing no danger, he was relaxed to know that nothing was wrong with it. Judging by its flatness, and the fact that it stretched on for miles with curves and sharp turns, Sweeney concluded this to be a road, a strange road to be frank.

Todd curiously looked down the black road; he never seen this in all his life, but then again he was dead. How long has he been dead for? Surely it wasn't that long, and for the growth of technology in the upcoming century he isn't surprised that they replaced the cobblestone roads with this…black stoned one.

Just as he was to start his long walk on the black stone road, a ridiculously loud sound erupted behind him; it sounded like a crazed man trying to blow into a trumpet. Sweeney slowly turned around to see what the sound was and saw two very blinding lights coming towards him in a vast pace. Squinting through the lights Sweeney was trying to peer through the blinding beam when the trumpet-like-horn kept on blowing. His eyes widened once he saw a very large looking carriage with no horses came speeding towards him with the two blinding lights attached to the front. Frightened, he leaped to the side back in the safety of the woods, just in time to hear a man shout from the carriage; "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, YA PRICK!"

Petrified now of the black stone road, Todd decides to keep next to the forest and away from it, incase of any other vastly fast horseless carriages decide to blind him with hot white lights, and yell at him with loud irritating trumpets.

Hours have passed, and Sweeney Todd was growing tired of walking. This road seemed endless, his bare feet were starting to form blisters, and he was certain that he had formed some cuts on his souls as well. After a few cusses he muttered under his breath, Sweeney heard, for the first time in God-knows-how-long, the sound of a human voice (Not including the man that shouted out from the speeding carriage). Sweeney followed the voices, leading him too an open area in the forest. The voices were coming from two boys, between the ages of 17-19, if he could guess. One was wearing a white blouse, and black slacks, the other wearing a long trench coat and gray slacks. Sweeney decided to stay in the shadows, as he observed these two boys.

The two exchange words, something about forgetting his keys back at the beach. The one in the trench coat was left sitting on a bench that resided there; he sighed, and pulled off his coat. Silently, Sweeney approached behind the bench, he didn't want to kill the boy, but he was in desperate need of shoes and a coat of a sort to keep him warm.

Out of no where, the crow from the cemetery, startled, the man sitting on the bench jumped in his seat as the bird perched itself right next to him. Sweeney stayed where he was, watching what the crow was intending. Just as the man was going to make the bird fly away from him, the crow jumped up and started to gouge at his eyes. Todd was used to seeing gore from his past, but he still watched wide eyed as the crow did his own bidding. The man was running around in a circle screaming bloody murder, attempting to pry the crow's talons but he had no arrival. Possibly from blood loss or just the sheer shock of it tall, the man collapsed on the ground, face first.

Quickly taking his chance, Sweeney grabbed the leather trench coat and snaked his arms through the sleeves. He buttoned it up and nestled his chin into the popped collar. He heard from a distance someone calling out a name, which was could very well be the other boy who left moments ago. Quickly Sweeney snatched the unconscious man's shoes, and darted back into the safety of the woods.

It wasn't long until the smell of salt and water filled his nose, and Sweeney knew right away that he made it to the familiar port. It would be only an hour's walk towards Fleet Street, where it all began as well as ended.

Looking about, there were several steel boats bobbing around the port. They were strange looking, nothing like the ships and boats that he saw in his life time; these had no sails or masts. Nevertheless, Todd kept on moving, with the crow still flying above him.

Sweeney Todd was nearly frightened at what London turned into. There were writings on the walls in some odd hand writing, or symbols; it could've been in another language, but it still looked a lot like English. There were also more homeless men and woman on the streets, most of which were huddled around a steal barrel that was lit on fire.

The road was still made out of cobblestone, which calmed him a bit. The trees around the streets were larger than he could remember, which meant he had been dead for a long while; but how long?

Todd nearly jumped out of his skin as another horseless carriage sped past him just as he was going to cross the intersection. Waiting on the sidewalk for about 5 minutes, he cautiously walked across the cobblestone road and onto the next street. Ahead was the bridge, exactly how he remembered it. Black stones caused by ashes and soot, hollow and eerie. The only difference was that it was covered in that odd fluorescent coloured writing inside.

As he drew nearer and neared to Fleet Street, Sweeney couldn't help but have a little bounce in his step to be home once again. What ever become of his home? Was there still a pie shop beneath it? Or was it forever abandoned? His stomach churned at the thought that it might've been burnt down. Even though he hadn't the best last memories there, it was still his memories and his home. If it was no longer there then he has no where left from him to go.

Todd's gaze was fixed on the ground trying to forget his odd surroundings. Something caught his eye, however, and it was a window display across the street. There were 5 boxes, all stacked up on each other, all of them radiating a hazy light. Todd bridged his eyebrows in confusion and wonderment as he stared at the box fixedly. There inside each of the boxes was a picture of a woman cooking dinner in a kitchen, with two blond twin boys, a blond daughter, and her husband sitting at a dinner table. It wasn't the fact that the stove she cooked on was nothing he ever seen before, or the fact that the entire kitchen environment seemed queer for him; it was the fact that this entire scene was moving. Mystified, Sweeney walked slowly across the street towards it, and as he drew nearer he heard from out of no where people talking, and by watching the woman mouth words to the husband, and the other way around, it sounded as if it was coming from them.

"I never thought I'd miss our little apartment," the wife said.  
"C'mon, that apartment was tiny and cramped and noisy," the husband replied.  
"Yeah, your parents would only visit once every other month."  
"I loved that place," after the husband said that a bunch of laughs were heard all around, but the couple or the kids didn't even notice. (Guess what show that came from )

Sweeney stared at this moving picture in wonderment for what seemed like hours. His eyes started to water from staring at the light that was radiating from it; he blinked a couple of times, but didn't pull away from the scene that was before him. This had to be magic, or they found a way to shrink people into imaginable sizes to fit them in this box just for their amusement…Another cruel gesture on men's part, another reason why they all deserve to die.

"Hey, what do ya think yer doin'? Off with ya!" shouted a man from inside the shop. Sweeney quickly tore his eyes from the picture and stared at the man as if he were the reason for his pain. Nevertheless, Sweeney turned and left, heading towards Fleet Street.

_"There's a whole in the world like a great black pit,  
__and the vermin of the world inhabit it  
and its morals aren't worth what a pin can spit  
and it goes by the name of London…_

His song faltered as he stopped suddenly at an intersection. His gaze rose from the ground and landed on a familiar building, with a large panel window up top, and a shop underneath. He stood still as his vision blurred for a moment from the last time he saw this place, and then back to the present.

_"At the top of the hole sit the privileged few,  
making mock of the vermin in the lonely zoo  
turning beauty to filth and greed..._

He paused as he looked through the dirty windows of the shop, seeing a familiar flock of yellow hair, but at this rate, Todd convinced himself that it was only a hallucination. He tore his gaze away and looked at the words above the window, _Gabriel's Wing._

_"I have sailed the world and seen its wonders," _He sang softly,_ "for the cruelty of men is as wondrous as Peru." _He balled his hands in a fist and marched across the street towards the Tavern that now resided in what was once Mrs. Lovett's pie shop.

_"But there's no place like London!!"_

_

* * *

_

**A/N: Sorry that this took so long. But I'm afraid that I might not be able to update as frequently as I had hoped, but I'll update until it is over! I promise. Anyway, I wanted this chapter to only be about Sweeney's little adventure of the new world. I tried to make it as realistic as possible... I wouldn't know how a person from the 18th century would react if he or she saw the world of today. Only guessing!**

**_Who's asking?:_ Yes, I realize that my OCs do seem a bit Mary-sue-ish, but that was what I intended as a first impression. I promise that as the story goes on, their characteristics will seem much more...human, hopefully to your liking. **


	5. Ch Five: Poor Thing

**The Crow: Care for a shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll but the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Five: Poor Thing 

After Gabriel left the room, Abigail and Dawn were left alone in the tavern. The younger of the two sighed, and pulled up her yellow locks into a pony tail, she didn't even give a second glance at the strange man in the corner that was staring at her fixedly.

Dawn sauntered over to the corner towards the man. Taking in his features, which consist of a chalky white skin tone, drooping gray bags under two black eyes, a mass of tussled black hair with a shock of white running through it. Truth be told Dawn was slightly taken back by his murky appearance; it gave her a shiver down her spine just looking at the man, a shiver that was both a warning and a pleasure.

"What can I get you, sir?" Dawn asked the shady looking man.

After Sweeney entered the building that was now a tavern, he couldn't tear his eyes off of a certain blonde girl; a certain blonde girl that looked an awfully lot like his dear Lucy. Nevertheless, Sweeney tried his best not to be shocked by the things he saw, and walked casually to a table in the corner, using the collar of his trench coat to hide his face.

His eyes darted, if only for a moment, away from the yellow-haired girl to one of the waitresses; she had disturbingly revealing clothes, a mass of wild black hair that almost looked unreal, and face with a cake of make up splattered on her face. As she was dancing around, mainly on men's laps, he was revolted to see how sleazy this girl was. Never in his life had he seen such a promiscuous woman, even the whores and prostitutes of his time had a bit of class!

His shock was soon overcome by something bigger; as he listened to the words of her little song, two words made his eyes go wider than when he saw the little people trapped in that glowing box.

_'21__st__ century…?"_

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, doing a little math in his head. _"I'm in the bloody new millennium!" _Todd was about to have a heart attack… He's been dead for that long? Suddenly everything made sense to him; the uncanny things he saw on his way here, they were modern technology for this era!

Sweeney's head was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even know the whore-ish looking waitress was coming towards him. "What can I get you, sir?" Todd quickly shook himself out of his shock and looked up at the strange woman. She might not have the most attractive face in the world, but her eyes were captivating nonetheless.

"Sir?" She asked again a bit impatient.

"Gin," he replied flatly.

"Straight?"

"Please," Sweeney watched her nod and turn on her heel to leave. He had to turn his face away before he could let himself take a look at her backside, which was quite revealing in that incredibly short skirt, if that was even a skirt; it looked more like one-legged plaid knickers.

Going over to the bar, she told her sister the orders.

"He's a strange one, that one," Dawn said out of no where.

"Who?" Abigail asked while searching for a bottle of gin.

Dawn pointed over to the shady looking man in the corner with the lightening of white in his hair. For the first time Abigail took a good look at him, and in her gut she felt that somehow she knew him. Looking at his attire, he could be a bum she saw once or twice around Fleet Street, but this feeling of familiarity was eerie.

"Could be that he has a mental illness," Abigail suggested, tearing her eyes away from him.

"Yeah, I guess that could be true," Dawn nodded, "the man looks like death kicked him in the face though."

Abigail rolled her eyes and handed her the cup of gin, "And let me guess: you're attracted to him?"

"You know me too well, Abigail," Dawn grinned and walked back towards the man in the corner.

An hour passed and it was nearly time to close up. There were only a couple of people still in the bar; one being off his face, and the other one still sat in the corner of the bar sipping on his gin.

Tired, Dawn sat down on a stool next to the bar counter. Her feet were sore from standing and walking all day, and her boots weren't helping any. Abigail was taking out the money from the cash, and re-counting it making sure it was all there. She looked up at her sister noticing the restlessness in her eyes.

"Go up to the apartment," she said, "you're tired. I'll handle the rest."

Dawn didn't protest, but got up from her seat and said she was going to take a quick shower.

Todd was one of the last people in the bar, and he already knew that he couldn't stay here all night, so he hoped that his home above vacant. He glanced down at the little slip of paper that the whore-ish looking wench left him, and saw a bunch of numbers. _Total - ₤12. 50_

_'Bloody hell,' _Sweeney thought. He only had two shots of gin! That would've cost only 5 pence! Expensive or not, Sweeney was fresh out of money. Desperately he dug his hands in his pockets and pulling out random objects. One was a solid square thing that was black and had a little tip at the end; he had no idea what that was. Another was a book of matches, then a couple of crumbled papers, lastly was a square leather pouch. He flipped it open seeing a photograph of a pretty brunette girl, a photo of the man he stole it from painted on some hard piece of parchment. He continued to explore the pouch until he pulled out a bunch of parchment squeezed in a little fold; they were quid's.

He pulled out a couple and slapped them down on the table. He didn't know how much he left, but at least he paid something. He left the bar, with not so much as a glance at the yellow-haired girl he had been watching the entire time, and turned to the stairs that lead up to his once humble abode.

He climbed up the stairs, careful not to make too much noise. Once Sweeney got to the top, the first thing he noticed was the door—it wasn't the same window pane door. This one was solid white with a silver knocker, and round door handle with a small keyhole.

If he was in the 21st century, they might've upgraded housing security. So how was he to get inside? Deciding that he would at least give it a try, he turned the knob, and was surprised that someone would leave it unlocked.

Slowly he pushed open the door, fearful that it was a trap of some kind. He was surprised to find that the whole place was filled with light and inside resided a calm little home. The walls were painted a light earthy green, the floors looked like sleek cherry wood, and the giant panel window was now clean silver.

Sweeney didn't know what his reaction should be; awed at how it looked as if a duke lived here, or angered that someone would change the look of his home. The place where he, Lucy, and his baby Joanna lived, the place where he was reunited with starling silver friends, the place where he slaughtered all those men, where he got his revenge...

He stepped foreword into the large room after closing the door behind him. As his feet traveled near the middle of the room he stopped abruptly and shut his eyes tightly as a stream of memories bombarded his mind.

He gasped in pain, but remained quiet. Flashes of him killing Judge Turpin, then after the madwoman, who unfortunately turned out to be his precious Lucy, and as if the memories didn't suffocate him anymore, he saw himself pull out a lad from the trunk beside the door. He remembered grabbing the young boy and slamming him into the chair; he remembered the terrified look in those eyes, those eyes that seem so familiar. He nearly killed the lad who witnessed his crimes of that night, if it wasn't for Mrs. Lovett who screamed bloody murder because her dress got caught in Turpin's hand.

Then something happened, he watched himself walk out of the door speeding to Lovett's aid. He wasn't following himself down to the oven room, but stood there with a quivering lad. The boy just sat there staring at the door as if the demon barber would barge in at any second to make sure he wasn't going to move. After a few moments the door did swing open, but it wasn't the demon barber but Anthony.

He remembered young Anthony, how stupid he was. Sweeney remembered how he wanted to save a ward from her guardian, and he only obliged to help when he found out that it was in fact Joanna that he was intending to save.

The vision went on, and Sweeney had to grit his teeth and clench his fists in order to stop himself from making a sound. Anthony barged in and looked around with large and confused eyes; he then saw the frightened lad on the Barber's chair and immediately went to his aid. "Joanna!" Anthony shouted and run towards the boy; but it wasn't a boy at all, it was a girl! And not just any girl, but Joanna!

Sweeney's head started to heat up, and his ears started to flame. He would've yelled if he could, but he was afraid that someone might hear him. The lad was Joanna the entire time? Oh dear God… He almost killed her! Benjamin Barker almost killed his beloved daughter… How could he not recognize her face, her eyes, or her mother's yellow hair?

Mrs. Lovett was right… Sweeney didn't remember what Lucy looked like, otherwise he wouldn't have killed the madwoman, and realize it was his wife; or almost killed his daughter who looked exactly like her mother. How could he be stupid? How could he be so blind?

The vision stopped suddenly, and Sweeney was left a mess on the hardwood floor. He was breathing heavily, and his brow was damp with sweat. Coughing, Todd pushed himself up and got to his feet. His breath was still heavy and his hair was sticking to his damp face, but he didn't take notice to it. His mind was still on the fact that, that lad was his daughter all this time; maybe he does deserve to die.

But why is he alive now in the 21st century?

Just then Sweeney heard something; soft singing, and what sounds like rain. He turned his head and spotted a door all the way at the end of the room. He never remembered that being there; the door was slightly ajar, so he peeked through the crack from a safe distance. Seam was seeping through the corners of the door, but it nearly indulged the room beyond it. Inside the smog he saw a silhouette of a woman's body behind a white curtain; she was washing herself, as he assumed to be, and singing softly. Someone did live here, and Sweeney had half a mind to barge in there, and rip out her hair and kick her out of his house; but he restrained.

Suddenly the sound of pelting rain stopped, and he watched as the silhouette squeezed out her hair, and poked a hand out of the curtain as she reached for a towel. Sweeney spun around looking crazily for a place to hide. He spotted a door next to the exit that he never seen before. He opened it up and saw a familiar large leather trunk. He didn't need a vision to remember about this trunk, but regardless he went to open it; but it was locked. Sighing out of frustration, he crawled behind the trunk and hunched down after closing the door slightly, leaving enough space so he could see a bit inside the room.

Dawn walked out of the steamy bathroom with a white towel wrapped around her body. She was towel drying her hair while she was looking around; it was cold in the room for some reason. Maybe it was she just came out of the shower, or that the exposed large panel window was attracting the cold from outside. She walked over it and shut the large and thick curtains, making the room a bit darker and confined. The front door handle start to turn, which made Dawn turn on her heel to only see that Abigail walked in.

"The door's unlocked," Abigail said curiously.

"Must've forgotten to lock it when I came in," Dawn shrugged.

"Don't forget next time; you know very well how many freaks and predators are out there just on Fleet Street alone."

Dawn rolled her eyes and strolled over to a wardrobe and pulled open the doors. "Of course I know," she said as she pulled out some panties, black booty shorts, and a purple tank top. "I did _almost_ get killed like 3 times," she dropped the towel, and started to slide her legs in a pair of black lace panties.

"You see! And yet you still leave the door open!" Abigail nearly yelled as she tossed her coat on top of the trunk they had in the closet.

"The key word here is '_almost. I did almost get killed,' _" She explained after tying her damp knotting hair in a pony tail. "If you care to remember, I basically castrated the little buggers."

Abigail rolled her eyes and plopped down on the dark purple sofa. "That is still no excuse for leaving the door unlocked! There are also thieves!"

"What are they going to steal? Your bottle cap collection? The only thing worth value in this apartment is the apartment itself!"

Abigail cocked her head to the side, "What are you talking about? This place was a dump when Gabriel bought it for us."

Dawn shook her head, "you never heard the story of this place? Why everyone thinks it's haunted?"

Abigail shook her head and crossed her legs, seemingly interested.

Dawn sighed and mimicked Abigail's position on the couch. "It's about this guy who lived in London about a century and a half ago. They called him Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street—"

There was a sudden thud that came from the coat closet. Both girls turn their heads and stared at it; it was too obvious that Abigail was already a bit spooked.

"What was that?" she whispered

Dawn just waved her hand carelessly at it, "Probably a rat or somethin'. Anyways…

"_Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd.  
His skin was pale and his eye was odd.  
He shaved the faces of gentlemen  
who never thereafter were heard of again.  
He trod a path that few have trod  
did Sweeney Todd  
the demon barber of Fleet Street.  
He kept a shop in London town.  
Of fancy clients and good renown  
and what if none of their souls were saved  
they went to their maker impeccably shaved.  
By Sweeney,  
by Sweeney Todd  
the Demon Barber of Fleet Street."_

"What does that have to do with this apartment?" Abigail asked.

"He lived in this very room, and killed in this very room…

_"There was a barber and his wife.  
And he was beautiful...  
A proper artist with a knife,  
but they transported him for life.  
And he was beautiful..."_

"He called himself Benjamin Barker at that time; some say that's just a rumour, and he'd had always been Sweeney Todd," Dawn added, and Abigail nodded in understanding. "But why did they transport him? Did he kill back then too?" Abigail shook her head, "No one really knows; but I think, I think that it had something to do with this judge who was like in love with his wife, Lucy."

"Judge, what judge?" Abigail asked a bit confused.

"I'm getting to that…

_"He had this wife, ya see.  
Pretty little thing,  
silly little nit.  
Had her chance for the moon on a string...  
Poor thing!  
Poor thing!  
There were these two, ya see...  
Wanted her like mad!  
One of them a judge  
one of them his beadle!  
Everyday they'd nudge and they'd weadle!  
Still she wouldn't budge from her needle!  
Too bad!  
Pure thing!  
So they merely shipped them for blighter off south, they did!  
Leaving her with nothing but grief and a year old kid!  
Did she use her head even then? Oh no, God forbid!  
Poor fool!  
Ah, but there was worse yet to come!  
Poor thing!"_

_"_They had a child together, Sweeney and Lucy?" Abigail asks, receiving a nod from Dawn.

"They did. I think her name was like…Josie, or something with a J."  
"What happened to Sweeney's wife?"

_"Well, Beadle calls on her all poor light  
Poor thing!  
Poor thing!  
The judge, he tells her, is all contrite.  
He blames himself for her dreadful plight.  
She must come straight to his house tonight!  
Poor thing!  
Poor thing!  
Of course when she goes there...  
Poor thing!  
Poor thing!  
They're having this ball all in masks.  
There's no one she knows there!  
Poor dear!  
Poor thing!  
She wonders, tormented and drinks!  
Poor thing!  
The judge has repented, she thinks.  
Poor thing!  
"Oh where is Judge Turpin?" she asks...  
He was there, alright!  
Only not so contrite!  
She wasn't no match for such craft, ya see.  
And everyone thought it so droll.  
They figured she had to be daft, ya see.  
So all of them stood there and laughed, ya see!  
Poor soul!  
Poor thing!"_

Abigail's eyes were slightly wide, "the judge raped her?" Abigail nodded, "and no one wanted to help her?"

"They thought it was funny," Dawn explained, "they were drunk, and stupid."

"I'm glad I didn't live back then," Abigail looked down at her trembling hands. She didn't know why but this story slightly gave her the creeps, especially because she is currently living in the house where it all happened. "What happened to Sweeney?"

"Well he—"Dawn was interrupted by a violent knocks on the door. She stood up and walked around Abigail towards the door and looked into the peep hole. A sigh escaped Dawn's lips, "its Gabriel."

She opened the door and the long haired burly man glared at them both. "It's 1:30 in the am," he said bluntly.

"So?" Dawn raised an eyebrow.

"You're working a double shift tomorrow," he pointed at Dawn, then at Abigail and said, "and you have a class tomorrow at 7."

"You're point?"

"GET TO BED!"

"Alright jeeze, what's with the yelling? We'll go!" Dawn threw her hands in the air and started to walk towards two beds that were on the very end of the other side of the room with Abigail in tow; one with pastel blue comforters, and the other with dark purple comforters.

Gabriel didn't move from his position from the front door as he watched his two adopted daughters crawl into their beds. Dawn crawled into the purple bed while muttering curses on Gabriel's expense (something about 'child labor' and 'can't wait until he kicks the can'). After Abigail crawled under the baby blue blankets Gabriel nodded in approval and shut off the lights with the switch next to the door. After the door closed, Gabriel locked it from the outside and climbed down the stairs to his own apartment within the tavern.

"So what happened to Sweeney?" Abigail whispered.

"I'll tell you tomorrow; Gabriel has ears like a bat."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this one took a while; I'm back at school and I have a lot of projects to do before this semester is over --- then my exams. Sigh. Thanks for all the support! I really appreciate it. Oh, and btw, I didn't mean for Dawn to be a Mary Sue, but Abigail, and if you paid attention to this chapter, you would know why. But if you don't, don't worry it shall be revealed later on! xoxo, love you all! Ps. I may raise the rating on this, if it gets any more gorey, or mature. **


	6. Ch Six: Faeries Wear Boots

**The Crow: Care for a shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll but the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Six: Faeries wear boots 

Even though Sweeney had a minimal space and view he still saw the entire scene from when the black haired girl dropped her towel (causing Sweeney to turn his face in disgust at her lack of chastity) to when who he thought to be their father or brother telling them to get to bed. He didn't know what time it was or how long he had been in that closet; only that it was for a very long time. For one thing he didn't know if he should get out from his hiding spot or not, incase of the girls woken up, and another thing he had no idea where to go. He let out an exhausted sigh and thought if he was going to stay squished corner he would at least make himself comfortable. He tugged at the jacket that the blonde girl tossed onto the black trunk and jumbled it up in a ball so he could cushion his head. It wasn't long after that, that Sweeney felt himself drowsy and soon fell into a soundless sleep.

It felt like it only had been 30 minutes until Sweeney heard a loud irritating noise erupt out of no where. He jolted awake and for a moment he forgot where he was. It suddenly came back to him that he was in a closet stuffed in a corner, with two young ladies residing his once humble home. Todd couldn't see anything, but he did hear a loud smack and the buzzing sound turned off; then there was silence for about 20 seconds.

A groan was heard and the creaking of a bed. "Alright, sunshine, time to get up," a soft voice said.

"Mmm, no!" Another more aggressive voice muffled.

"C'mon, Dawn! You don't want Gabriel to drag you down to the tavern by your ankles again!"

Sweeney peeked over the corner of the trunk to see the small form of the yellow haired angel; he may not know of her name yet, but at least he knew what the other one's name was – Dawn.

"Gabriel could sod off his mum for all I care."

"Dawn!"

"What!?"

"That's not very nice!"

"Neither is his stringy ol' beard but you don't see me complaining!" there was a moment of silence before Sweeney could hear some mumbles, something like 'the man hasn't gotten a date for the past year and a half and he's takin' he's bloody anger on me. Can't wait until he's dead.'

Dawn wasn't too thrilled to wake up that morning. After Abigail had left to go to her morning class (after wondering where her jacket had gone), Dawn took a quick shower and dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, a black wife beater, and a pair of black heels. She didn't bother straightening her hair and kept its wildness. After she painted her face up, she took one look in the mirror and pulled her hair out of her face looking disapprovingly at her features. She let out a tired sigh and let her hair fall back in a mess around her face.

She went to a side table next to the sofa and snatched her purse and started to dig through it. After a moment of not finding what she wanted she started to panic thinking that Gabriel might've snooped into her purse. A wave of relief washed over her as she felt the plastic material on the finger tips, so she grabbed it with too fingers and pulled out a small dime bag with two circular pills with a happy face itched on the surface. She took one of them out and put the small bag back into her purse, then pulled out a small bottle of water. She popped the pill into her mouth and took a sip of water before she let out a sigh of content.

She snatched a ring of keys from the side table and took her coat off of the floor and headed out of the door locking it behind her.

Sweeney had watched Dawn out of curiosity, wondering what she put in her mouth. After she left he waited a moment before figuring it was safe to get out. He must've been there for a while for he had a cramp in his neck and hip. A groan escaped his lips as he climbed on the trunk and out of the closet. He stretched out his back, and legs groaning some more when he heard the small crack that his back made. That was probably the most uncomfortable sleep he had ever had.

After a moment of stretching, Sweeney looked around the large room/apartment. He couldn't believe how different it looked from the last time he was here, and really the only thing he recognized was the trunk he was squished with in the closet. Sweeney turned on his heel to face the trunk and bent down to look at the lock. It looked simple enough, he may be able to pick it, but with what? He stood up and started to look around but really all he could see was discarded clothing and half drunken goblets of various drinks. He decided to peer into Dawn's large purse; He pulled out a mirror, a quill of a sort, various make up products, he assumed, the tiny bag he saw her pull out earlier, a tube-ish thing with a string dangling on the end (a/n: lmao, girls, guess what that is?), and then finally a thin plain black pin.

Sweeney Todd didn't bother putting the stuff back in the purse, but ran over to the trunk and stuck the pin in the lock. With his ear pressed down close, and his fingers started to harden from the pin; Sweeney picked and picked for what seemed like an hour or so. Once in a while he would think he finally got it, but when he tugged at the lock nothing happened. An aggravated sigh escaped his lips, and he was near to quit the whole thing until finally a click was heard and Sweeney felt it loosen. He smiled victoriously as quickly ripped the lock away and flipped open the trunk.

_Gabriel's Wing _was near to empty that morning, by 10:30 people started to come in to have breakfast or brunch. Dawn was slightly disappointed that the mysterious man from the other night didn't come back for something to eat or drink, but then again, it could be because he was just a night person.

Even though Dawn absolutely hated mornings she was in an overly hyper and happy mood, but that might because she just popped a capsule of lover's speed (XTC). However, Gabriel never noticed, considering most mornings he saw that Dawn was genuinely happy and full of energy, but what he didn't know was where that happiness and energy came from.

Dawn was sitting on top of a table where 3 boys in their mid 20s sat drinking tall drinks filled to the rim with soda (it was far too early to have a beer). There was only the 3 boys, and a couple of lone people sitting on their own, typing on their laptops; naturally, Dawn took this as a chance to slack off and do what she does best – flirt.

"I've once seen dog runnin' around these streets wearing a tutu and miniature cowboy boots; bloody thing looked miserable!" One of men with blonde hair and brown eyes said, with Dawn sitting on top of the table in front of him.

"That's nothing! Remember Miss Jane from our high school? Well I saw her 'bout a week ago street walkin' down near Puddle Lane!" Said the other with brown hair and lighter brown eyes.

"Now that's just nasty! She's all wrinkly and has some serious cellulite!" The quieter one said, with the ginger red hair and the blue eyes. The 3 boys were laughing, as was Dawn, but at that moment she had no clue what they were talking about.

"Pfft, boys, you need to get out more!" She said jumping off the table and turning towards them, "I saw, and I shit you not, faeries that were wearing boots!"

"Lassie, you must be on some drugs or somethin'," the brunette laughed after a moment's pause.

"I'm not kidding you!" Dawn insisted.

(_This song is called __FAERIES WEAR BOOTS by Black Sabbath_)

"_Goin' home, late last night  
suddenly I got a fright  
Yeah I looked through the window  
and surprised what I saw,_

Dawn paused for a dramatic effect as she sat on the lap of the ginger, "_Fairy boots were dancin' with a dwarf," _She shook her head and jumped off his lap and landed on the hardwood floor on her feet with a thud. "Hun, honestly, Hun, you must be dreaming! Can you hear yourself right now?" The blonde said still laughing with his other two friends. Dawn shook her head and continued.

_"Faeries wear boots and you gotta believe me  
Yeah I saw it, I saw it_,

"Lies!" They all said at the same time.

_"I tell you no lies  
Yeah Faeries wear boots and you gotta believe me  
I saw it, I saw it with my own two eyes!"_

_"Well all right now!" _The ginger said randomly and got up and started to dance with Dawn as if they were in a cheesy 50s musical. He twirled her around until the ginger sat back down on his original spot, and Dawn sitting in the middle of the table. She motioned with her finger to tell them to get closer and started to whisper.

_"So I went to the doctor,  
See what he could give me  
He said 'Miss, miss, you've gone too far.  
'Cause smokin' and trippin' is all that you do!'_

_Yeah!"_

The four erupted in giggles and Dawn barely notice the bell signaling that someone stepped in. The laughter soon died down once a shadow blocked the light and loomed over Dawn's crossed legs. Slowly Dawn turned her head to stare at the figure that now emerged into the bar, her eyes slightly widened, but she quickly calmed herself down and slid herself off of the table.

"Haven't seen you here in a while," she said with no emotion in her tone. She turned on her heel and headed towards the bar where Gabriel was no longer standing behind. "I was in the neighborhood," the man said following slowly behind her, never taking his eyes off of her frame.

"You live in Whales, Eric," Dawn replied flatly.

"True. I guess I just wanted to see you, Dawn. How long has it been?" Eric asked, plopping down on a stool cocking his head to the side.

"20 months and 12 days," Dawn replied not looking up at her ex boyfriend.

"You keep track?" He nearly laughed.

"No, I just like to have a nice shag and a drink on the day you were put under house arrest, I keep track on the anniversary," she said mockingly now looking at Eric. He certainly changed since she last saw him. His hair used to be a light brown and tied it neatly into a small pony tail, and his eyes used to be a kind green; now his hair was curly, tangled, and fell misshapen around his high cheek bones, and looked as if it lost some colour. His eyes were sharp and uncaring.

"I see you still have that sharp tongue," his eyes darkened.

"Better to snog with, my dear," she smirked, "now what do you want?"

"You," he stated simply.

"I was talking about a drink, asshole." Dawn narrowed my eyes wishing that Gabriel would magically pop up at this moment.

"I think you know what _you_ would like a drink of," Eric stated suggestively yet aggressively.

She stuck out her tongue in disgust then pointed sharply out of the door, "Alright, out with you! Did you not see the sign out side? There are no animals allowed in the bar!" She was getting more and more aggravated, the fact that his appearance was a buzz kill was one thing, but having the audacity to try to get with her after what happened?

Dawn walked around the bar counter and latched her hand on his arm and started to drag him out after he didn't budge from the spot; the few customers inside _Gabriel's Wing_ were watching this entire show up until the door swung closed and Dawn and Eric were outside.

"A little more pushy than I remember," Eric chuckled as he leaned against the wall of the bar.

"Eric!" Dawn barked and rubbed her temple with her eyes closed.

Eric decided to take this as an opportunity (considering the coast was clear and the street was nearly a ghost town) to grab Dawn roughly by the arm and shoved her in the small space underneath the staircase that lead up to Dawn and Abigail's apartment. Dawn didn't get a chance to react to this sudden abuse. She landed on the brick wall hard and nearly slid down to the ground hadn't been for Eric's vice grip that clutched around her neck tightly.

"I've been waiting for this moment for almost 2 years," he hissed into her hair as she wheezed for air. "If you make a sound I will snap your neck…" his dark careless green eyes bored into her light blue ones which were wide with shock and fear.

"No…" she tried to say but it was chocked back by Eric's hand.

With his free hand he slid it up her thigh and let his finger tips slide up under her shirt. Dawn tried feverishly to kick him off seeing as she was slowly running out of air and her face was starting to pale into an unhealthy blue.

The two ex lovers didn't even hear the creak that the stairs was making, and in a blink of an eye, a figure dropped from the heavens behind Eric, and with a flick of a wrist a silver blade was placed around his neck. Eric's hand immediately retreated from Dawn's throat, who gasped for air and collapsed onto the cobblestone floor.

Dawn had her eyes tightly closed and rubbed her neck, she couldn't see anything, but she still felt the presence of Eric and the mystery person that saved her; the only thing she heard was a some-what familiar voice hissing, "If I was you, sir, I would be running…"

Dawn finally opened her eyes to see Eric being pushed away and running out of Fleet Street. She looked up at her savior, but the glare of the sun was shining behind him and all she could really see was a black silhouette and the reflection of light upon the silver of a large blade.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry it's a bit short and it took me a while to write this one up. But during this time of the year I'm really busy, what with exams and projects and all. But this semester is almost over and I'll have time to write more often. Well, even if this one is short, I'm rather proud of the action and cliffhanger, and it shows a lot of Dawn's character and a bit of her past. Btw, the rating's gone up to M, because it's only going to get worse from here on in. Thanks for all the support and reviews! Love you all, xoxox. **

**Ps. I forgot to mention, the whole Faeries wear boots thing is just an example of how Dawn does drugs a lot… She was joking around about it with the boys, but…well, I'll just let you guys read the story and figure it out on your own :)**** … But I did find that moment in this chapter incredibly cheesy, haha, oh well. **


	7. Ch Seven: Nymphetamine Girl

**The Crow: Care for a shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll but the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Seven: Nymphetamine Girl 

Eric ran around the corner of Fleet Street, only looking back once to see a man clad in a leather trench coat and a mess of black hair standing above what looked like a passed out Dawn. It only took him another 10 minutes to get to his destination, which was a big old house in a richer street than Fleet Street.

He banged on the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet before the door finally opened. "Did you get her?" A shady looking character peered at Eric, who shook his head. "There was an intrusion," he replied and stepped into the house once the shady man stepped aside for him.

"Francis isn't goin' to like this…" the man said as he scurried down the narrow hallway.

The light was dim in the hall way, but Eric can still see the figure of his murky friend; the most noticeable thing on him was his large hump, and his bobbing head with strings of gray and white hair holding on, on the sides of his head. He was wearing a large black cloak draped over his hump and jeans that barely fitted tightly around his waist. He had a black beanie on his balding head, and his left eye drooped slightly down.

"Where is Francis, anyway, Cybil?" Eric asked trying not to think of the funny jump-ish walk Cybil did.

He waved his hand around, "who knows? Probably out shagging some twat in the slums, I reckon. Best stay here until he comes, and explain and all what happened."

Eric sighed, "I almost had her too."

"Who's the bloke that intruded you?"

"I don't know he looked like something out of a comic book."

The finally entered a room that was a cross between a library and a living room. "Tea?" Cybil asked, and Eric shook his head, "I could really do for some cognac, actually."

"Ah," The hunch backed man turned around and opened up a cupboard and started to go through different bottles. "Found it!" He magically pulled out a cup and poured a bit inside.

Dawn finally opened her eyes to see Eric being pushed away and running out of Fleet Street. She looked up at her savior, but the glare of the sun was shining behind him and all she could really see was a black silhouette and the reflection of light upon the silver of a large blade. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she passed out, head slumping behind her.

Sweeney stared at Dawn who lay sprawled on the floor unconscious. He was considering leaving her there, but then a small part of him scolded at him and told him that he couldn't just leave her there! That boy may come back and finish the job.

Sighing in frustration at his superego, Sweeney pocketed his razor, and bent down to pick up the girl. She was surprisingly light, with the mass of her hair, he would've guessed otherwise. Her head hung back over his elbow, which gave a clear view of the bruise that was now on her neck. Sweeney sighed and mentally raved on about how the human race should be burning in hell's fire.

Todd kicked open the door of the apartment, which he left slightly ajar. With some difficulty he shut the door using his elbow and then made way towards the purple covered bed. He laid her on the bed gently and then took a step back. He turned around to see that he left the trunk wide open. After he had flipped open the lid he found all sorts of things in there; mainly things that belonged to Mrs. Lovett. But what stuck out were a wooden box, and two pictures of a blonde woman holding a baby. Naturally he recognized these things immediately. After a long moment's admiration of his friends, Sweeney heard a noise outside, and went to investigate, and saw Dawn and that lad.

So here he was contemplating whether he should leave or stay and await her wake. He sighed at himself as his id took control of his ego, and turned to leave. However, something stopped him in his tracks, and that was the sound of murmurs and gasps. Furrowing his brow, Sweeney turned around at Dawn, who was visibly shaking, and whispering things in her sleep. Curiosity got the better of him as he slowly stepped towards the bed and leaned in and listened carefully.

_It had to be Fleet Street, there were no other buildings like these, but everything was darker, much darker. Dawn stood up from her spot on the ground and twirled around absentmindedly. The entire place was hugged by black and gray smoke, and not a single sound was heard. The clouds above were dark and seemed to be signaling for a storm. There was a gust of wind, causing Dawn to hug her shoulders, and turned around and immediately saw the familiar stairs that led up to her apartment._

_The stairs seemed to stretch on forever; Dawn thought she would never reach her door. Finally she reached the top, and flung open the door and stepped inside. She looked around casually but in her mind she was mystified. It looked just like Gabriel had found it, with the acceptation of a single large chair sitting in the middle of the room, and a vanity behind it with two conjoint picture frames. Dawn walked over to it, picked it up and stared at the two pictures; one of a blonde woman, and the other of the same woman holding an infant._

_A sound erupted causing Dawn to jump and look around for a hiding spot. She spotted a trunk she was also familiar with, and ran towards it opening it up and jumping inside, then slowly closed the lid over her head; keeping it just a ajar so she would still see. _

_A woman burst in the room looking like a half insane homeless person babbling on about something, and soon after someone else emerged through the door after her. A tall man with wild hair, and a thin yet fit frame stared at the woman who stood in the middle of the room. She turned to him and continued her rambling, mostly about smoke and a witch. Then the odd woman paused and looked brightly towards the mysterious man, "Hey, don't I know you?" And in a blink of an eye, the man flicked his wrist and slashed across her neck mercilessly. Dawn's eyes widened at the sight, but kept quiet. The man stepped on a lever that was near the chair and a hidden trap door dropped open letting the woman being swallowed by it. _

_The man closed the trap door and stood silent, before someone else knocked on the door of the apartment. Another man walked in, short in stature, wide in width with a top hat and a smug look on a large face. The two were talking, the larger man mentioning the odd odor that has been coming from the smoke that was enveloping from their chimney, and he would like to take a gander at the oven room. It was only 10 seconds after that the man repeated what he did to the woman, and sliced at the chunky neck of the fatter man. _

_Dawn cupped her mouth to keep herself from making gag noises or gasping. The dark man opened up the trap once more and the large man slid down the door before it closed. There was a moment of silence while the man cleaned his blade, ignoring the stains of blood on his blouse's arm. There was a slight noise heard and the man looked out the window, seemingly seeing something. He grabbed a coat and slid it on, just in time for an older man who obviously was higher class than the mysterious one (who Dawn made point of that he looked oddly familiar). _

_"__Where is she? Where is the girl?" The older man barked._

_"Below, you're Honor. With my neighbor, Mrs. Lovett. Thank heavens the sailor did not molest her. Thank heavens too; she  
has seen the error of her ways," The dark man replied innocently. _

_"She has?" The Older man's face softened a bit._

_"Oh yes, sir. She speaks only of you, longing for forgiveness," The dark man smiled. _

_"…And she shall have it…" The higher class man sighed, "Pretty women…"_

_"Pretty women, yes," the dark man said in almost a whisper. "Sir, sit, sir," he beckoned over to the lone red cushioned chair. The older man sat down with a bit of a hesitation. "You're in a merry mood again today, barber," he pointed out as he made himself comfortable._

_"Pretty women," was all the dark man said which Dawn now realized that he was a barber._

_"What we do for…" The older man trailed off, and the barber began to sing a tune._

"Pretty women! Pretty women!

Blowing out their candles, blowing out their candles,

Or combing out their hair, combing out their hair,

Then they leave—

Even when they leave you, even when they leave,

And vanish, somehow they still

Can still remain Are there,

There with you there…They're there…"

_"How seldom it is one meets a fellow spirit!" The older man said as he turned his face to let the barber do his work._

_"With fellow tastes – In women, at least," the man murmured._

_"What? What was that?"_

_"The years no doubt have changed me, sir. But then, I suppose, the face of a barber – the face of a prisoner in the dock – is not particularly memorable."_

_The older man paused, and then his eyes widened and sat up straight in the chair, "Benjamin Barker!"_

_"BENJAMIN BARKER!" The barber repeated in a yell and lifted up his razor and started stabbing insanely and savagely at the man's throat, smiling sinisterly at his gurgles and gasps of pain. Satisfied with his work, Dawn watched as the barber flipped the lever, and the trap door opened once again, and the back of the chair flattened causing the older man to fall into the blackness of the hole._

_That's when it clicked; Benjamin Barker? Wasn't that the name of—?_

_Suddenly the lid of the trunk was violently flipped open and Dawn was sitting defenseless as the demon barber stared at her with flaming eyes. He pulled Dawn up by the collar of her shirt. She tried desperately to beg him to spare her life, "I beg of you. Whatever I have seen, no man shall ever know. I swear it. Oh, sir, please, sir."_

_"C'mon sit, boy, sit! You look like you're in need of a shave!"_

_Dawn shook her head nervously watching the pale chaotic face zone into her personal space. There was a shriek, and the barber perked up and turned his head towards the noise, "Do not move." He stood straight and left the room._

_Dawn was left shivering in the barber's chair, eyes wide and mouth dry. _

_The door opened once again, and she winced thinking it might be the barber, but as soon as the figure stepped in everything went black and the scenery had changed. Dawn was left standing nude in the forest, she looked down at her bare feet, clutching her arms to her chest. Her head darted in every which direction, confused as to where she was. All the trees looked the same: tall, twisted, and black. The sound of a wings was heard, then a caw from a bird. Dawn looked up to see a black crow perched up in a tree, it wasn't looking at her, but it was looking at one specific direction, then it took off following it's gaze. Without thinking Dawn started to follow the bird._

_It seemed like forever she was running through the forest, and the crow seemed to get further and further, until she couldn't spot the bird at all. Dawn was completely lost; every direction she turned to only looked the same as the one before it. She hugged her naked body hoping that some clothes would magically appear but as her luck was going, nothing happened. She continued to walk now feeling as if she might not ever come out of this forest. _

_Finally she found herself staring at the first clearing and if it wasn't for the fact that she was naked she wouldn't have cared for the fact that she walked into a funeral with people. No one seemed to notice her, as their backs were facing her and they were too busy mourning the loss of their loved one. There was only a couple of people there, a blonde girl who looked like Abigail a bit, a boy with long light brown hair that was holding the girl's arm; then a younger boy, about 11 years old if Dawn could guess. There were a couple of other people, mainly old men that looked like sailors. Oddly enough, there was no priest, so that could only mean the person that died was a) an Atheist, b) committed suicide, or c) committed a foul crime. _

_As Dawn crept behind them, relieved that no one noticed her and her…exposed body, she peered over the shoulder of the 11 yr old to read the name of the tomb stone._

_"_Benjamin Barker,  
AKA Sweeney Todd,  
The Demon Barber of Fleet Street  
1823 - 1858"

_"Sweeney Todd…" Dawn whispered to herself. The heads of the people morning slowly turned to look at Dawn, but as soon as she noticed this they started to fade away. The tombstones around them were rapidly starting to age, and vines started to wrap around the stones. The angel in the middle just looked sadder with every second. _

_Dawn was now left alone in an old cemetery, she looked around to see the trees looked more depressing and large. She looked down at herself, and notices she was now wearing clothes, it was only a white nightgown, but at least it was something. Her feet started to walk across the graveyard; she had no control over them, but she could still move everything else. She looked over at the statue of St. Michael the Angel and saw that crow once again, sitting on statue's shoulder. She turned her head away and watched where she was going, and found herself stopping at a river that led to a small pond on the other side. Dawn sat down calmly on a large rock and dipped her bare feet into the water, which was surprisingly not as cold as she thought it would be. _

_(This song is called _Nymphetamine Girl _by_ _Cradle of Filth_)

"Lead to the river  
Midsummer I wave  
A "V" of black swans  
On with hope to the grave  
And through Red September  
With skies fire-paved  
I begged you appear  
Like a thorn for the holy ones…"

_Dawn felt a presence behind her, but she dared not turn around. She was calm, and some how knew who was behind her. His voice erupted the silence and his breath was hot at the back of her neck._

"Cold was my soul  
Untold was the pain  
I faced, when you left me  
A rose in the rain...  
So I swore to the razor  
that never, enchained  
would your dark nails of faith  
be pushed through my veins again."

_She stood up from the rock she sat upon, and let her feet sink in the shallow water that only reached just above her ankles. She started to walk across the slowly running river, taking her time, never looking over her shoulder._

_"_Bared on your tomb  
I'm a prayer for your loneliness  
and would you ever soon  
come above unto me?  
For once upon a time  
from the binds of your lowliness  
I could always find  
the right slot for your sacred key"

_She let the last word hang in a soft note as she bent down and dipped her finger tips into the water, and as soon as it entered through the surface of the water, strands of red floated away from her nails and down the stream. Then he continued to sing to her note…_

"Six feet deep is the incision  
in my heart that barless prison  
Discolours all with tunnel vision  
Sun setter...  
Nymphetamine  
Sick and weak from my condition  
this lust, this vampiric addiction  
to her alone in full submission  
none better...  
Nymphetamine!"

_Still mystified and amused by the ribbons of red flying from her fingers slowly filling up the pond to her left, there was a voice from all around that whispered to Dawn,_ "Nymphetamine, nymphetamine, nymphetamine girl, nymphetamine, nymphetamine; My nymphetamine girl…" _And then that voice of the man behind her began once again._

"Wracked with your charm  
I'm circled like prey  
back in the forest  
where whispers persuade  
more sugar trails  
more white lady laid  
than pillars of salt"

_Dawn stood up from, and continued to walk across the small river, ignoring the large maroon water that now settled at the top of the pond. _

"Fold to my arms  
Hold their mesmeric sway  
And dance out to the moon  
as we did in those golden days"

_She stopped walking away once she hit land, and stayed standing just on the edge of the river. From behind her, she could feel his presence closer to her than ever. His stiff cold arms slowly embraced her from behind as he whispered in her ear._

"Christening stars  
I remember the way  
we were needle and spoon  
Mislaid in the burning hay."

_Dawn pressed her head against his shoulder and stared at his arms around her waist. His hands were pale and looked like Death had shook it, but it seemed not to bother her as she began to stroke the back of his palm with her small fingers. She parted to lips and sang more delicately as if her life was wasting away._

"Bared on your tomb  
I'm a prayer for your loneliness  
and would you ever soon  
come above unto me?  
For once upon a time  
from the bind of your holiness  
I could always find  
the right slot for your sacred key"

_And then he sang, and when he did Dawn heard the water start to pick up speed and the wind blowing hoarser. _

"Six feet deep is the incision  
in my heart that barless prison  
Discolours all with tunnel vision  
Sun setter...  
Nymphetamine  
Sick and weak from my condition  
this lust, this vampiric addiction  
to her alone in full submission  
none better...  
Nymphetamine"

_He cried out to the heavens, but it wasn't out in pain, but in passion, and just as Dawn was going to turn around and face him, the soft voice was echoing around her in a more feminine voice;_ "Nymphetamine, nymphetamine, nymphetamine girl…"

_All of a sudden the scene started to fade in a blinding light and everything disappeared, even _him

Todd watched in amazement at this girl. For about 20 minutes or so she had been mutter and tossing in her sleep. Finally she gasped and she sat up rapidly, too rapidly that it didn't give Todd a chance to react (who was leaning in close to hear her properly). Both their heads smacked together, causing Sweeney too stumble backwards and clutch his head in agony, and Dawn to smack down on the bed clutching her own head.

"Oh bloody hell! What the fuck was that? Fuckin' shit… Oh my God. Ow!"

* * *

**A/N: Oh, what a happing ending in this chapter! Haha, honestly, what a shitty wake up if you bang your head on something… Not fun. Anyway, there had been a lot of clues in this chapter as to why Sweeney Todd is back, and Dawn's problems in life… To be honest I'm really proud at how I made her dream. I really implied a lot of Sigmund Freud's theory in here. My psyche teacher would be proud indeed… And about the song, well, I was listening to it the other day and I found it would be the perfect song to use in this story, so I thought it would be fit if she was dreaming it all. Worked well didn't it? Oh and I love how misleading this chapter went, mwuahahaha. I want to confuse you guys until the end :3. THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS, you wonderful persons are…wonderful. PEACE xoxo**

**Ps. I don't know if the dates on the Tomb are correct. If any one knows it the correct year he was born and died, please tell me :)**


	8. Ch Eight: Realization

**The Crow: Care for a Shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll but the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Eight: Realization

Abigail hopped off the bus hugging her books closely to her chest. She hadn't gotten into university yet, due to the fact that she had to improve herself by going to more schools (her high school wasn't exactly exceptional for Oxford…or any university really).

Turning a corner she noticed a group of men talking in front of a large house in the richer part of London. Abigail didn't pay much attention to them as she was to busy remembering the homework she had to do that night, but the men sure noticed her. In fact they stopped in mid conversation and stared at her.

Eric was standing in front of Felix's (his boss) house, with 3 other people that worked for Felix. The owner of the house wasn't home just yet, so the 4 were smoking outside while discussing various ways to get the Dawn girl without any suspicion, or intrusions.

"I still say that we break into her apartment and take her when she's sleeping," Donald, the largest of the 4 said.

Eric shook his head, "That wont work, her adoptive father lets out his dogs in front of the house."

"I'm sure they're not that vicious," Donald rolled his eyes.

"Remember that kid 10 years back, people thought his accident was of an attempted murder?" Michael, the tallest of the 4 said.

"Yeah, what of it?" Donald raised a bushy eyebrow.

"That was no serial killer. It was those bloody dogs! The lad was a little obsessed with the blonde one, he was. Damn dogs nearly castrated the poor boy!"

"Bloody hell… Did the bartender get sued?"

"No," Eric answered, "Gabriel warned the boy that if he came to the apartment again, he will let out his dogs. The kid was just daft…"

"Hey, who's she?" James finally piped up pointing over to a girl with near to yellow hair; he was the shortest of the 4.

They turned their heads to the direction James was pointing at. Eric narrowed his eyes to get a better view and reconsider the girl right away. A smile crept on his face, "I know who that is," he paused and looked over at the boys, "And I also have a plan. C'mon I'll tell you inside."

Finally Abigail saw the Fleet Street sign, and her pace got quicker, anxious to be home. Don't get her wrong, it was a nice reprieve to get out of the slums of London, but it's true what they say: there's no place like home.

She entered the _Gabriel's Wing_ and was met by a near to crowded bar, and a Gabriel that was running around crazily. Upon hearing the door open, the long haired bartender looked up hoping it wasn't another costumer, but it was his adoptive daughter.

"Abigail!" he barked after he placed plates of food on a table. "Glad you're here, girl! Could you help me with these costumers? You're bloody sister went missing, and hasn't been back for nearly 2 hours.

"Really?" Abigail cocked her head, and looked at her watch. It was about 12:30 PM and that's when most of their family customers come in for lunch. It baffled her where Dawn could have been at a busy moment like this. Nevertheless Abigail dropped her stuff behind the bar counter and set to work.

Meanwhile, above the tavern, Dawn was still cussing and rubbing her head, and Sweeney had just finished subsiding the pain in his forehead.

"For a young lady, you sure cuss a lot," his voice was some what cold, "even though you parade around like an unclassy wench…" he muttered under his breath for her not to hear.

Dawn let out a groan, "well who are you to stand so close to my face?" After another rub she slowly got into a sitting position, her eyes still shut, not looking at the man.

"Who the hell are you anyway?" She paused and looked around noticing it was her apartment. "And how the hell did you get into my home?"

"The door was unlocked," Sweeney quickly answered, not answering the first question.

"Right, of course," Dawn groaned, now seeing that Abigail might be right about leaving the door unlocked. She finally opened up her eyes and stared at the man that brought her here. It took a while for her recognize his face; that deathly gray coloured skin, the shady black bags under his near to black eyes. The messy and wild hair with the shock of white that ran down the left part of his hairline.

"Hey, weren't you at the bar last night? The one that left us a large tip! Bloody hell, you left like 25 pounds extra—" Dawn paused. He was the shady man from last night, she knew it, but she also seen him somewhere else.

"What's your name, sir? I don't reckon you told me…"

Sweeney opened his mouth, but closed it, rethinking if he should give his full name or not. The girl did know the story, and if he said his name was either Sweeney Todd or Benjamin Barker she might think he was a loony.

"My name is… Todd."

"Well nice to meet you, Todd," Dawn greeted, and then extended her polished hand, "I'm Dawn Hastings. Are you new here to London, Todd? I have never seen you here before." If Dawn knew any better, she would be lying upon saying that.

"Kind of, yes," Sweeney replied a bit awkwardly. "Well I see you look better, but I must be going," Todd made to go up, but Dawn latched on to his arm and pulled him back down.

"No! Stay! Can't I do anything for you as thanks for saving me?" While Dawn had more normal thoughts of repaying him, Sweeney took this more suggestively.

"Err… No thank you, Miss Hastings. I really must be going," he insisted trying to pry his arm free of her vice grip. The woman just wouldn't take no for an answer!  
"I insist! My sister always told me I have a real talent!"

Sweeney's eyes widened slight, "Miss Hastings, I really don't think that would be appropriate—"

"Oh c'mon!" Dawn jumped off the bed, the floor creaking beneath her feet. "I make a mean veal sandwich! But of course, I don't work with veal anymore, after hearing about what they do to those poor cafes. Have you heard about it, Todd? I saw some pictures on the net, and it was completely grotesque! Oh I know! How about some home made Mac'n Cheese? I'm not Canadian, mind you, but I still find the stuff unbearable to resist!"

Dawn went on blabbing about possible dinners she could make for Todd. The entire time Sweeney was trying to get his word in, but was constantly interrupted by her blabbing, and frankly, he didn't understand a word she was talking about.

"Miss Hastin—"

"Oh I know!" Dawn jumped eyes wide with excitement, "I can make you a couple of meat pies! How does that sound?"

Sweeney paused and looked at the girl slightly wide eyed. This girl was beginning to remind him of Mrs. Lovett, "No thank you. Really I'm not hungry at all."

"Oh, really?" Dawn looked really disappointed, but as she was going to turn away thinking of some other way to repay him she saw the closet open, with the trunk unlocked and open. She blinked a couple of times, and started to walk towards it. She's seen that trunk in that closet since she moved in here, but never made any thought of it after she gave up trying to open it all those years ago. However, at that moment, the trunk intrigued her even more, and it wasn't because it was open.

Dawn stopped walking to it, "Did you open that trunk, Todd?" She asked looking at him with no suspicion in her eyes, but curiosity.

"I—no—well; I was looking for medical supplies. For y'know, your head," he rambled, but Dawn didn't take notice of his uneasiness in his voice as she slowly began to creep towards the open trunk. Scenes from her dreams flashed in her mind and for each one she made a small cringe. "How did you open it?" She asked softly.

"I—I picked the lock," Sweeney answered, staring at her oddly.

"Oh," she said, barely over a whisper. She bent down on her knees and grazed her fingers over the opening of the trunk in admiration. She looked into the trunk and absentmindedly reached her arm into it, and grabbed the first thing she touched; a musty gold conjoint picture frame with two photos residing in them: one of a blonde woman, and the other with her holding an infant.

"_...She looked around casually but in her mind she was mystified. It looked just like Gabriel had found it, with the acceptation of a single large chair sitting in the middle of the room, and a vanity behind it with two conjoint picture frames. Dawn walked over to it, picked it up and stared at the two pictures; one of a blonde woman, and the other of the same woman holding an infant."_

Out of shock Dawn dropped the pictures back into the trunk, her fingers trembling, and her eyes wide. She slowly backed away from the trunk, as more flashes from her dreams popped up, how she witnessed murder after murder. Dawn slowly turned her head to face Todd, who was standing now watching her with an expression between worry and confusion.

As soon as Dawn set eyes on his face something hit her mentally.

"_'BENJAMIN BARKER!' The barber repeated in a yell and lifted up his razor…"  
__"'Benjamin Barker,  
__AKA Sweeney Todd,  
__The Demon Barber of Fleet Street  
__1823 – 1858'"  
_

"Sw-S-Sw-Sweeny T-Todd," she started to back away from him. Dawn couldn't believe her eyes, either she was still dreaming or she developed schizophrenia.

Sweeney's eyes grew out of shock that she knew he was. Of course he was confused as ever, seeing as this girl had a near panic attack while looking at the picture of his wife and child. "Miss Hastings," he tried to plead to her, but she kept on backing away.

"Stay away from me!" she tried to feel around, looking for some sort of weapon.

"Miss Hastings, please calm down, I'm not going to hurt you," Sweeney lifted up his hands to show that he wasn't going to trick her by pulling out a gun or a knife.

Dawn didn't trust him one bit; he could very be the man she dreamt about, or a psychopath that enjoys the Demon Barber story a little too much. Dawn's back was now pressed against the furthest wall, and her attempts at reaching for a weapon was a failure. Her heart was beating faster, even though Sweeney was moving incredibly slow.

"Please, Miss Hastings—" he sighed, "I'm not going to harm you. I just want to know something…" he trailed off, watching her reaction slightly calm down, but she was still pressed up against the wall.

"W-what's that?"

"What year is it?"

Dawn narrowed her eyes in confusion; you'd have to be real daft not to know the year, but then again she, herself, didn't know the whole story behind this weirdness. "It's 2008…"

"2…2008?" Sweeney sunk back, almost collapsing to the ground. He knew did discover that he was in the new millennium, but he hoped he was wrong. Now that he confirmed his hunch it nearly killed him. It was almost a decade into the millennium as well…he was dead for that long… God knows if Anthony and Joanna survived, and if they did, did they reproduce? Did their generations live on until this century? Upon seeing the blonde girl, assumingly Dawn's sister, Sweeney would've guessed that Anthony and Joanna did have children and their bloodline last until now. Was this the reason why he was back? To see the reincarnation of his daughter; his great-great-great granddaughter?

Sweeney stumbled, and caught himself by leaning against a wall. "Joanna…" he whispered, his eyes unblinking, staring wide eyed at the hardwood floor picturing her pale skin, yellow hair and bright eyes. He never got a chance to meet his daughter before he died (excluding the part where he nearly killed her) and this might've been his chance!

By now Dawn was more curious than petrified than anything. Maybe he wasn't as much as a threat than she thought he was. What ever possessed her to walk over to him she didn't try to fight it off. "Hey," she spoke gently placing a hand on his shoulder, "are you okay?"

It took a while for Sweeney to respond, "I thought you were afraid of me…" he muttered, never taking his eyes off of the floor.

"I think it's safe to say that you won't slice my neck or something… You're not going to right?"

"No I won't…" he replied, still in that droned out voice.

There was a moment of silence until Dawn heard someone climbing up the stairs outside. She turned towards the window that had the curtains shut tight, and quickly peered through them seeing Abigail make her way up.

"Quickly!" Dawn shouted a bit over a hoarse whisper, "hide!"

This caught Sweeney's attention as he jumped from his spot and looked around anxiously. He spotted the trunk and dove inside, and just as he closed it and Dawn sat on top of it looking casual, the door opened.

Abigail groaned, "Dawn left the door open again, I swear—" she was cut off mid sentence when she spotted Dawn sitting on the trunk in the closet looking suspiciously nonchalant.

"Oh your own," she paused, "Why are you in the closet?"

"Oh well, I was trying to y'know, open the trunk again," she said waving her hand in an uncaring way.

Abigail looked at the lock and saw it was open, "So you got it unlocked?"

"What?" Dawn bounced and looked in-between her legs to see the lock was still open. "Yes, yes I did!"

"Well?" Abigail pushed.

"Well what?"

"What was inside?"

"Oh! Oh, nothing much really, just a bunch of parchments, empty picture frames… a man that apparently was dead for 150 years," she muttered the latter to herself.

"What was that last one?"

"I said an old man…doll. Looks to be about 150 years old, but it's a bit musty, doesn't look very healthy to have laying around," Dawn felt a little shove under her bottom that came from inside the trunk (though Abigail never noticed), "best be keeping it in here incase."

Abigail nodded and looked around the room, "Gabriel has been looking for you. He said that you just went up and left; where have you been?"

"Oh, I was here… y'know, relaxing."

"You seem a bit jumpy, are you alright?"

"What? Oh, yes… That's why I came up here. I've been getting a bit of a fever, you see; needed some rest."

Abigail nodded, "right, well, I will go downstairs and make you some soup, then. By the way, have you seen my jacket?"

"Your jacket?" Dawn looked around the closet and spotted it squished behind the trunk, "found it! Must've fallen back here." She tossed it over to Abigail who caught it clumsily.

"Well, I'm going to make that soup and help Gabriel out in the bar. Best get to bed, and _lock the door!" _Abigail walked out of the apartment, receiving a mock salute from Dawn. As soon as the door shut, Dawn let a relieved sigh and jumped off the trunk.

Almost immediately, Sweeney opened the lid of the trunk and stepped out. "That was her!" he made for the door but stepped at the window to glance down at the blonde girl's retreating form down the stairs.

"Who? Abigail?" Dawn raised an eyebrow and joined him at the window, "what about her?"

"Abigail…" he said softly, admiring the shimmery glow her wheat coloured hair makes as the wind blew it about her shoulders.

Dawn narrowed her eyes a bit; she was complete used to others admiring her sister's beauty, and only admiring herself for her persuasive and promiscuous behavior. "What you got a crush on her or something?" Her voice was a little too cold than what she intended to.

Sweeney stared at Dawn confused, "Crush? Why would I crush Abigail? She looks exactly like… _her._"  
Dawn raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, "okay, maybe you are from the 19th century. Who's 'her', anyway?" she made quotation marks with her fingers.

"_Her; she, _Joanna, my daughter. Abigail looks exactly like her."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry that was so short, but I didn't want to stretch it any further. Anyway, I made some cover art, and there are some character pictures in my homepage/profile. Check it out! Ahem, so my exams are over, and I will have plenty of time updating chapters, hopefully more often. Anyways, there seems to be some confusion about Dawn's dream. Now I mentioned that the dream portrayed a lot of Dawn's problems, but they are symbolic. So I'll just list each symbol in the dream and what it means. **

STORM CLOUDS: deep depression.  
FOG/SMOKE: warning to examine carefully any partnerships  
DEAF/NO SOUND: frustrated ambitions.  
HIDING IN FOREST: guilty secret.  
LOST IN FOREST: failure to find your true path in life.  
NUDE: vulnerable  
CROW: death  
FUNERAL: subconscious is telling her to let go of something from her past.  
RIVER/STREAM: physical, emotional, or spiritual journey  
RED FLOWING FROM FINGERS: (I made this one up :D ) murder.

**Then the whole Dawn in Joanna's POV thing should imply something. As for the moment when Dawn and "him" (guess who) are singing at the pond and stream, that's more of an epiphany for Dawn, but she doesn't remember it. The Epiphany is in the title, "****Nymphetamine Girl" which is "****comes from the marriage of two words... nymphet and... amphetamine. Loosely translated, sex and drugs combine to describe an unhealthy, beast-like addiction to the classical fairer gender or one female ideal in particular. A dark Goddess figure. If women have a sexual, Venusians substance, then this relates to the abuse of that substance in vast and unhealthy amounts." (Taken from Duality urban for the support xoxox**

**Ps. I'm too lazy to spell and grammar check. So if you spot a mistake let me know so I can fix it. **


	9. Ch Nine: Because Of You

**The Crow: Care for a Shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll but the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Nine: Because of you

After Abigail descended down the staircase she couldn't help but notice that Dawn was acting strangely, but she brushed it off once she stepped into the tavern.

"Found 'er?" Gabriel asked gruffly as he swiped the counter of the bar with a rag.

"Yeah, she's a bit ill," Abigail replied while tying an apron around her.

"Then go make'er a bowl of soup then!"

Abigail rolled her eyes, "I was just about to do that."

"Oh and clean up those 2 tables, and someone is going to pick up some food, which is in the kitchen. Can you take care of all that?"

Abigail nodded obediently, "where are you going?"

"I'm going ter take a nape, dead tired."

She nodded her head and finished up the swiping the bar counter; she waited until he went out the door leading to his parlor to stop whipping the counter. The bar was near to empty since lunch time was over, so she got to start with the soup she was going to make Dawn.

After turning on the stove she filled a small pot with water and placed it down to let it boil. Now for those tables…

The entire time washing and collecting plates from the two empty booth tables Abigail's thoughts consumed her attention span. _Every bloody day he expects me to do everything, and only listen to himself! I'm 18 years old, I am an adult now and he still treats me like a child! _Her mental ranting was getting her frustrated and angry. After violently shoving the dirty plates in the sink she stopped and rested her hands on the counter shutting her eyes and sighing exhaustingly, still thinking.

_I honestly think that the only reason WHY he decided to adopt Dawn and I was so we could basically run the entire tavern ourselves. He's bloody lazy; today has to be the only day I ever see him do any work. If he's not behind the bar whilst me and Dawn are serving costumers, drinking up the Jack Daniel's and rum, than he's out in his living room passed out on the couch with a cheesy porn video still playing._

Abigail didn't even notice she was shaking the salt into the water aggressively for about 3 minutes. "Oh dear," she pulled her hand away and put the salt down, "I hope Dawn likes it salty." She made a worried expression and started to pay more attention to what she was doing.

10 minutes must've passed and the few people that were inside _Gabriel's Wing _were now gone, leaving Abigail alone to cook Dawn's cream of broccoli soup (a/n: 'Cause I really want some right now.) A sighed escape the 18 year old's lips as she turned away from the stove and leaned her back against the counter, arms crossed and eyes zoning in and out.

(This song is called _Because of You_ by Kelly Clarkson)

_"__I will not make the same  
mistakes that you did  
I will not let myself  
cause my heart  
so much misery…_

She picked up a cloth and began to absentmindedly swipe the booth tables as her song took over most of her senses and clouded her mind.

_"__I will not break  
the way you did  
you fell so hard  
I've learned the hard way  
to never let it get that far!_

She stopped to sit on one of the tables and looked sorrowfully at the TV set that was hanging in the corner that showed a commercial of a family all enjoying a bucket of fried chicken.

_"Because of you,  
I never stray too  
far from the sidewalk _

Because of you  
I learned to play  
on the safe side  
so I don't get hurt

Because of you  
I find it hard to trust  
not only me, but everyone around me 

Somewhere near her chorus she got up from the table and walked over to the panel window looking outside noting a few lone raindrops falling against the glass._ "Because of you, I am afraid..._

_"I lose my way  
and it's not to long before you  
point it out _

I cannot cry  
because I know that's weakness  
in your eyes 

Abigail felt some sort of comfort looking at the window that now was dotted with little orbs of water, so she sat upon a bar stool still looking outside, eyes glazed and voice cracking as she sang.

_"I'm forced to  
fake a smile, a  
laugh, every day  
of my life_

_My heart can't possibly break when  
it wasn't even whole to start with!_

She ended the last word with a high tone and gripped on the pole that was connected to the ceiling to the counter tightly. A pressure on her nasal area overcame her as her glazed eyes started to water and fall from her light green eyes.

_"Because of you  
I never stray too  
far from the sidewalk_

_Because of you  
I learned to play  
on the safe side  
so I don't get hurt _

Because of you  
I find it hard to trust  
not only me, but  
everyone around me 

_Because of you  
I am afraid…_

She jumped off the stool still gripping onto the pole as she swung her self gracefully back behind the bar. She finally let go and placed her hands on the cold counter top.

_"I watched you die  
I heard you cry  
every night in your sleep _

I was so young  
you should have known better  
than to lean on me! 

She lent against the counter her knees buckling underneath her causing her to slowly fall onto the tiled floor.

_"You never thought  
of anyone else you just saw  
your pain…_

As she neared the floor, with her right arm still holding on to the counter edge as if her life depended on it, she raised her voice feeling the song giving her the adrenaline rush that now resided in her bruised heart a push of encouragement.

_"And now I cry in  
the middle of the night  
for the same damn thing _

Because of you  
I never stray too far from the  
sidewalk

Because of you, I  
learnt to play on the safe side  
so I don't get hurt

Because of you  
I try my hardest just to  
forget everything

Because of you  
I don't know  
how to let  
anyone else in

Because of you  
I'm ashamed of my life  
because it's empty_…_

Her voice dropped, so did her hand that gripped the counter that tried to lift her up. Abigail blinked a couple of times feeling completely drained of energy and happiness, _"Because of you I am afraid…"_

"Johanna?" Dawn quirked an eyebrow, then it clicked to her. She did now remember that in the Legend of Sweeney Todd he did have a daughter that he never got to see. "Oh, right, now I remember."

"I see that my tale hasn't yet been forgotten…" his voice seemed a bit distracted as he was still looking out the window.

"Well anyone that lived in Fleet Street all their lives should know the tale! It's the only thing that keeps this place a tourist attraction."

Sweeney was barely listening to her as he was too drowned in his thoughts. Dawn slumped onto the couch exhaustingly and tapped her fingers on the arm rest, not knowing what to say. Truth be told this was kind of awkward, being in a room with an ex serial killer that was supposed to be dead for 150 years. Most people she would guess would not believe this at all and sent this man to the loony bin, but something told her that he was the real deal.

Finally the silence was broken, "I need to meet her." Sweeney turned his gaze away from the window and back at Dawn. He never thought he could act civilized towards this women, who lacked class…and clothes, but at this moment she was the only one that knew the truth and could help him.

"Who? Abigail? Well that won't be an awkward conversation; ''Ello, lass. Just wanted to say you look exactly like my daughter that I haven't seen for some odd 150 years.'"

"Than what do you suggest I say?" Sweeney asked a bit annoyed at her sarcasm. Women would be slapped if they did that in front of a man back in his day.

"Well I was kind of thinking that I introduce you as—"she paused rethinking what she was going to say, "Y'know, as my new boyfriend or something."

Sweeney furrowed his eyebrows, "Miss Hastings, we've only met today, I wouldn't think of you as more than just an acquaintance, rather than a friend."

"No, no that's not what I meant. Besides, Abigail wouldn't believe me if I said that you and I were just acquaintances, or friends… That would be the biggest understatement if I said that about any of my other guy-friends."

"Than what do you mean?"

"I mean," she stopped, trying to think of a way for him to understand, rather than saying that they were engaged or something. "Romantic together…"

Sweeney made on O shape with his lips but didn't say anything for a few moments. "Fine, but I still would like to tell her the truth at one point. I really think all of this," he gestured to his very alive self, "may be because I needed to finish something, or fix a mistake."

Dawn considered this, "Like meeting your daughter, which was something you never got to do?"

He nodded but didn't say anything.

Dawn paused and than gasped, "You don't think that she's…?"

"She might be!" Sweeney got a little spark of excitement. "Just look at her! She looks exactly like the way I picture Johanna; even Lucy, my wife."

She shook her head, "just seems a bit rash. Her being a reincarnation of your daughter; I mean, what are the chances of her ending up here?"

"It has to be fate," Sweeney said now going over to the trunk and looking inside of it. "Where did these books come from?"

Dawn shrugged now hovering behind him looking over his shoulder, "Dunno; the trunk was locked when we moved in. Don't recognize them?"

"No," he shook his head, "but they could belong to Mrs. Lovett… I don't remember her keeping any books, however."

Dawn bent down and picked up a couple of brown-covered books. There were no titles, but the spine and the corners were broken and tearing off. She flipped open one of them and turned a couple of blank pages before she came to one that had words: "Nellie's Journal."

"Who's Nellie?" Dawn quirked an eyebrow at the writing.

"That's Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney stood up and took the book in his hands. "I didn't know she kept a Journal."

Dawn took the second book and flipped it open to the first page that had writing. This one said "Elizabeth's Journal." "Then who's Elizabeth?"

Sweeney was too busy reading the first chapter of Lovett's journal to pay much attention, "I don't know, but it seems that Mrs. Lovett had an increasingly morbid fancy towards me; more than I thought."

"I see you're truly the lady's man," Dawn muttered to herself.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing—"she was cut off when she heard the door began to jiggle and unlocked. Panicked, Dawn shoved an unexpected Sweeney into the trunk slamming shut the lid, just at that moment the door opened.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this one is so ****short and it took a bit long. However, I put a lot of thought into Abigail's problem; she isn't all miss goody-two-shoes! By the song, I hope you understand why Abigail is depressed. Anyway, check out the character photos and the cover art on my homepage! THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS!! Happy readings, xoxox. **

**Andaere: Thanks for pointing that out, I'm just used to spelling it Joanna. **


	10. Ch Ten: I long to be like you, sis

**The Crow: Care for a Shave? **

**Summery: **

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll put the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Ten: I long to be like you, sis 

When the door opened Dawn let out a sigh of relief seeing as it was only Abigail, but regardless she tried to act less suspicious and more ill. The younger sister looked at her oddly, seeing that Dawn looked like she saw a ghost.

"Wow, you really don't look that well. Anyway, I made you Cream of Broccoli," Abigail said placing the tray on the table in front of the couch.

"Oh, thanks," Dawn said and took a seat in front of the meal, which consisted of a steaming bowl of creamy goodness, a little bun of bread, crackers, some slices of cheese, and two painkillers. "You went above and beyond just making me a plate of soup…" Dawn joked and took a spoonful in.

Abigail shrugged nonchalantly, "there's hardly any one inside the bar, so I just decided to do a little extra."

Dawn noted that her younger sister's tone of voice seemed a bit down, and even though Abigail had a faint smile on, it was plain as day that something was bothering her. Plopping the spoon back into the soup, Dawn crossed her legs and raised an eyebrow, "alright, what's wrong?"

"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong."

"Oh, c'mon. You have that face on – the same one you used when you first got your rag and didn't want to tell anyone."

At that a deep blush formed on her cheeks, "no-no I don't!"

"Look, sweetie, we can be here all evening having our monthly 'yes you do, no I don't' fight, but we all know who the winner is – today, future days, and past days."

Abigail rolled her eyes, "I just don't want to talk about it."

"Sure you don't."

"I don't!"

"I didn't say you did."

"But you implied it!"

"I didn't imply anything! I said you don't, and you said you don't which contradicts to the fact that you really don't to really you did, which makes me right that you actually did."

Somewhere near the beginning, Abigail lost her. She shook her head after zoning out and barked a 'fine'.

Dawn smiled triumphantly and patted the arm wrest next to her, which Abigail then sat on, "alright, what is it?"

Abigail let out a small sigh and then she explained a bit of what she's going through. She told her that lately (which would be an understatement if Dawn knew any better) Gabriel has been putting a lot of pressure on her; putting a lot of responsibility on her as well as still treating her as a child. However, she left out the part of how Gabriel has given the burden of his own sorrows to make Abigail feel guilty, which he often did especially when he was drunk.

After Abigail meekly explained herself, Dawn rubbed her shoulder affectionately, "don't take it too personally; he did it to me when I graduated and you were still in high school."

Not want to provoke this moment into a touchy emotional one that resulted in her crying, Abigail nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I guess. I'll think about it."

However, Dawn saw right through her, but knew better that to pressure her to let out her true feelings, that and there was probably a very confused and pissed ex-serial killer in the trunk in closet. "Alright then, I'll talk to you later."

After a quick good-bye and a thank you, Abigail left for the door, closing and locking it with her key.

As soon as the door shut, the lid of the trunk flung open causing Dawn to yelp and nearly spill her soup.

"What was that for?" Sweeney said, his eyes showing annoyance.

"My sister came in! I didn't want her to see you; 'else she would think that I'm just playing sick and that I'm here with you for a shag."

Sweeney grimaced, "Trust me, that'll be the last thing I'd be here for."

If Dawn was offended – which she was – she didn't show much of it, "Well knowing me, she knows otherwise. Besides she already knows from last night that I think you're—"Dawn stopped herself from say anything, "never mind."

"What were you going to say?"

"I said never mind! Here, try some soup!"

Sweeney walked over to her and sat on the arm rest, "I will not leave you alone until you tell me. You thought me… what?"

Dawn gave him an annoyed look, then thought of a word that wouldn't imply that she was attracted to him. "I was going to say, she already knows from last night that I think you…are do-able."

"_'Do-able?_'" Sweeney mimicked looking confused.

"Yes; here try the soup!" quickly to stop the conversation to go any further she shoved a spoonful of the cream of broccoli into his mouth before he could get a word out.

Dawn pulled the spoon out of his mouth, and finally Sweeney swallowed it trying hard not to cough. "Mmm, that is good," he complimented licking his bottom lip, "bit salty, though."

Glade that she was capable of changing the subject, Dawn smiled and took her own spoonful into her mouth, "I like it salty."

Losing his train of thought, Sweeney got off topic, and tackled something else, "anyway; why didn't you kick her out of the room instead of having a little heart-to-heart?"

"She's my sister, and I don't know what your norms are from back where you came from, but family comes before serial killers."

Sweeney nodded after a moment of thinking, "funny, you two look nothing a like; and if you two are related, then you as well are my great-great-great granddaughter."

Dawn laughed a bit and shook her head, "no, no. Me and Abigail—"

"You mean Abigail and I."

"What ever—Anyways; we're not related. Gabriel adopted us from an orphanage before it gotten demolished."

"So you don't know who your parents are?"

"Obviously not," Dawn rolled her eyes and took a large bite out of the bread. "Even though I am legally allowed to know who my parents are, Gabriel refuses to tell us. Ah well, I don't really care."

Sweeney gave her an odd stare, "You don't want to know who your parents are?"

"And find out that it's just another 30-something year old girl who got pregnant when she was a teen? I wouldn't be surprised if she's a prostitute and has other children, both aborted and orphaned… or sold off."

At that moment a large crow perched itself on the roof next to the large panel window, and started to prod with his beak onto the glass. Dawn took a glance at it, but dismissed it and turned back to her food. Sweeney however was staring back at it fixedly as the crow did to him on various occasions.

Hours passed since then, Dawn and Sweeney were still cooped up inside the apartment. Their conversations usually ended up Sweeney being mystified or confused about what ever Dawn is talking about. She tried to explain Charles Darwin's theory of the evolution of man to Mr. Todd, but he seemed even more doubtful of the fact that we came from apes and monkeys, than Adam and Eve (even though Dawn stressed her point that Darwin didn't say we came from monkeys, but a common ancestor).

After a long discussion of religion, they some how came to modern fashion, and Miss Hastings tried delicately to explain that the way she dresses is what a lot of women her age and younger dress like, and she's never seen a woman walking around in a "ridiculously large dress that makes your arse stick out in an awkward way". However, Sweeney still insisted that if women do dress like his hostess, than even Mrs. Lovett would be considered a more proper woman than any other in this era.

It must've been around 10 o'clock in the pm, Sweeney and Dawn had been playing a game that they were both familiar with – chess (Dawn sorely loosing). Abigail and Gabriel (for once) were cleaning up the bar closing up early that night, since it was a Sunday. Abigail was finishing off washing a glass cup when Gabriel sighed and finished "sweeping the floor".

"Hey, Abby?" Gabriel asked, using his pet name for her, which usually resulted in a huge favour.

Abigail restrained rolling her eyes and letting out an exhausted sigh, "yeah?"

"Could you do me a small favour? We have no more milk and bread; the store's still open…"

Gabriel didn't have to finish, Abigail dropped the sponge and whipped her hands, "yeah I'll get it."

"Great, thanks, hun," as she approached him, Gabriel handed her some money. She went to her jacket, slid her arms through the sleeves and left.

The corner store wasn't literal in this case; being it a few blocks away it took a while for Abigail to get to it. Turning into St. Maria Ave. (made it up) there was the store just a head of her. It was the only thing that light shone from, and it looked welcoming against the blackness of the buildings around it. Quickly walking in, getting the necessary things as well as some cold medicine for Dawn, Abigail left with a little chat with the cashier whom she was familiar with.

Humming to herself to keep her mind off of her voyage back to the tavern, Abigail kept on thinking to herself, long and hard about whether or not she should've told Dawn the entire story. Listing the pros and cons over and over again, but her nerves told her that she wasn't ready, and or Dawn might not entirely understand. It may be something that only a youngest child would know. She didn't know much about normal families, except of what she has seen on TV. She noticed that the youngest was always the most spoiled, but in her situation it was completely opposite. Was it because she was adopted, and he felt no need to treat her as his own? What ever the case may be, it sure plagued her mind that she didn't even notice that she entered the arch of the old bridge that she isn't fond of around this time of day.

Just as she stepped in the shadows, Abigail got an unwanted vibe. She clutched on the plastic bags and hugged her arms, speeding up the pace she was going. The late teen knew that it wouldn't make a difference if she made it out from under the bridge alive, a rapist or mugger wouldn't care either or, since it was the slums and no one would be brave enough to save her. There was something about this bridge, though, that she didn't like. Not even as a child; she didn't know if it was haunted, but seeing as she's apparently lives in a haunted residence, a used-to-be home of a serial killer, it wouldn't bother her much if the bridge was haunted, since she could survive in her apartment.

Maybe it was just her paranoia but Abigail heard footsteps following just behind her. _Relax, Abigail, your mind is playing tricks on you. _As an attempt of keeping her mind off of things, she mentally thought of different meals she could make for her sick sister, but often they were interrupted by those footsteps she heard.

Finally building up the courage, the adolescent turned around and asked who was there, but only received an echo from her voice. Letting out a sigh, she decided to push it out of her mind as soon as she was out of the shadows from underneath the bridge. It was a funny thing actually, it felt like a long voyage when only 5 or 10 minutes ago when she walked under it to get to the store it didn't feel that long.

As soon as she turned back, noticing that she only had 5 more feet until she was out from under the bridge's shadow, the footsteps she heard moments ago quickened. Before she could turn around a leathery hand clasped over her mouth and dragged her back into the depths of the shadows.

Just outside of the tunnel under the bridge, the familiar crow flew in circles, then landed itself on a lone trashcan located at the mouth of the tunnel. He cawed at the struggling inside, but no one paid it any head, as the two men in there were too busy restraining the younger blonde woman. The bird cawed again, but once more neither the girl, or the two men took notice of it, but someone did a few blocks away.

"Check mate," Sweeney said mockingly as he kicked Dawn's king over with his queen.

Dawn looked utterly perplexed, "what the bloody hell! I swore I had you!"

"Y'know," he began as he started to pick up all the pieces that fell from the floor, "for an era that invented such advanced technology, such as that horseless carriage—"

"For the last time, it's called a car!"

"—you people of the 21st century are pretty dim when it comes to this ancient game."

"Hey, hey! Don' start stereotyping all of us just because of me! Have you really talked to anyone while you were alive in this century?"

"No, of course not. On my little adventure back to my humble abode I encountered many other people that weren't particularly polite."

"… We live in London, England, not Canada."

"Canadians are nice?"

"I s'pose; never been there, but I heard the lot of them are pot heads."

"What are—" Sweeney was cut off when he blinked; a scene before him flashed before his eyes. The picture was a bit distorted, but all he saw was darkness, and he heard struggling noses. The vision seemed to zoom into the shadow and a loud caw echoed in his ears. Sweeney flinched, and then he saw figures in the darkness, but what stuck out the most was the face of a pale skinned, yellow haired girl.

Sweeney forcefully opened his eyes, and was met with Dawn's worried look.

"Are you—" Sweeney cut her off and quickly uttered four words, "Abigail is in trouble."

Without so much of a "Let's go," Dawn didn't ask any questions. She grabbed her coat and swung open the door, Sweeney following in tow. As soon as they touched the cobblestone floor Dawn asked, "how do you know she's in trouble?"

"I'm not sure; I just shut my eyes…and I saw it," Sweeney was leading the way. He had no idea where he was going, but it all seemed instinct to him.

"What do you mean you 'saw it'?" Dawn was trying feverishly to catch up, but Sweeney was running at a pace that could out run a horse; she was yards away from him.

"I don't know!" Sweeney shouted back, as he noticed he was running towards the tunnel under the bridge.

"Do all you people from the 19th century run so fast?" Dawn gasped. It was only when Sweeney slowed down to a halt in front of the tunnel when Dawn finally caught up.

"She's in there," he said softly, as if he might talk over noises that must be heard, but everything was silent.

Dawn dared not to enter the tunnel, in fear what she might see, though she hoped dearly that Abigail just broke her ankle, but something about the aura of this situation told her otherwise. Taking her place, Sweeney carefully entered the tunnel, barely seeing though the darkness, except for the light at the end of the tunnel. There a silhouette of a crow perched on a metal cylinder at the end; it cocked its head to a specific area in the darkness, so Sweeney followed its gaze.

Dawn stood outside of the tunnel, hugging her arms tightly as the wind started to pick up a cold temperature. "Miss Hastings, I think…I really think you should come in here," Sweeney said, his words echoing.

Dawn's heart gave a little tug, she started to worry. She shoved the irrational thoughts out of her head, convincing herself that Abigail probably fainted from seeing something…maybe.

As she stepped inside, seeing Sweeney's silhouette against the moon light of the other side of the tunnel; he was leaning over something, his arm stretch out stroking it gently. Walking towards him, she noted something wet shinning off the floor; her hands began to tremble, her pace slowly picking up speed. Then she saw the shine of wide glazed eyes; her own eyes began to water. The moon light reflected mostly against locks of yellow hair; Dawn's knees buckled to the ground, the trembles from her hands reached her entire body, and the tears finally escaped from her lids.

"No, no, no…" Dawn crawled over to her sister, her heart beating rapidly, her body shaking visibly. Sweeney stood, eyebrows furrowed in sorrow as he watched this trembling woman crawl towards her foster sister. He didn't understand it, as he stands staring into the dead eyes of Abigail, he felt no remorse for her, but for Dawn. Abigail was, after all, his descendant, his blood, but all his sorrow and remorse went to the black haired promiscuous woman that he once thought was a dishonorable woman.

Dawn hiccupped, still shaking in pure anxiety. She buried her face in her sister's hair not caring if her knees were in the puddle of blood, or her arm covering the large gash the stretched across her neck. "Oh my God…" Dawn breathed, "this is a dream, this is a nightmare… It's not real, it's not real…" She kept on muttering the same thing over and over again, and all Sweeney could do was bend down and rub his hostess' shoulder in comfort.

With a great gasp, Dawn lifted her tear streaked face. With quivering fingers, the older sister brushed her younger sibling's hair out from her face and behind her ear, staring tearfully at her lifeless eyes; they were wide, with small pupils and water rimmed her bottom eyelid. From behind, Sweeney could sense the uncomfortable-ness of the stare so he reached out and shut the lids gently. Dawn shut her own eyes tightly feeling fresh new tears coming to birth, turning her head she absentmindedly buried her face in Sweeney's arm that was wrapped around her shoulders.

5 minutes only passed, but it felt a lot longer. Dawn pulled her face away to stare at her now deceased baby sister stroking her cold cheek with her thumb.

(This song is called _Like You_ by Evanescence)

_"Stay low.  
Soft, dark, and dreamless… _

Dawn's voice was small and soft, Sweeney could barely hear it. Her mouth and throat were dry which was the cause for the slight airy sound that her tone suddenly gave.

_"Far beneath my nightmares and loneliness.  
I hate me,  
For breathing without you.  
I don't want to feel anymore for you. _

Feeling more supportive, Sweeney shifted in his spot so that he was laying against his thigh and wrapped her arms fully around Dawn's shoulders, and kissed her head sweetly as she continued her song.

_"Grieving for you,  
I'm not grieving for you.  
Nothing real love can't undo,  
And though I may have lost my way,  
All paths lead straight to you_.

Dawn clutched onto Sweeney's arm as if it was a life support as she continued: _"I long to be like you, lie cold in the ground like you…" _She trailed off and hesitated before the next verse.

_"Halo,  
Blinding wall between us.  
Melt away and leave us alone again.  
The humming, haunted somewhere out there.  
I believe our love can see us through in death. _

I long to be like you,  
Lie cold in the ground like you.  
There's room inside for two and I'm not grieving for you,  
I'm coming for you… 

She shifted her weight so she could be more closer to Abigail, leaning her lips close to her sister's ear as if she may hear Dawn's voice through death.

_"You're not alone,  
No matter what they told you, you're not alone.  
I'll be right beside you forevermore! _

Her voice picked up at a high note on the latter sentence, letting Abigail's limp head fall onto her shoulder so she could rest her chin upon her head; her cry facing the heavens.

_"I long to be like you, sis,  
Lie cold in the ground like you did.  
There's room inside for two and I'm not grieving for you… _

Her words trailed off, as she pressed her cheek against the top of the blonde's head, rocking the body back and forth.

_"And as we lay in silent bliss,  
I know you remember me. _

I long to be like you,  
Lie cold in the ground like you.  
There's room inside for two and I'm not grieving for you,  
I'm coming for you…" 

* * *

**A/N: Oh…Abigail… We hardly knew thee.  
****Anyway, sorry if that one was a bit rushed, but I figured, hey, it's already the tenth chapter and so far all we gotten to was Sweeney meeting Dawn! So I needed to rush into the plot twist. Sorry for the long wait, semester two just started, and well…I'm getting distracted by homework, as well as typing the first chapter of my POTC series that I might submit after this one! Thanks for all the support and reviews (which I'm getting hooked on). xoxox, Love you!**

**Andaere:**** I tried the best I could to explain Abigail's issues in this chapter, when she was talking to Dawn. It isn't because of an Ex boyfriend, it's because of Gabriel. That's why I had her have a mental rant about him before she sung the song. So if you read the lyrics of the song, thinking "okay, well then Gabriel might be putting a lot of pressure on her, from what I can understand from this verse: '**_you should have known better than to lean on me!" _**It's something you have to read in-between the lines for, as well as keeping in mind when someone sings a song in my series, it's because of something that triggered it just before. Think of it as verbal emotions…**


	11. Ch Eleven: Epiphany

**The Crow: Care for a Shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll put the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Epiphany 

10 minutes have passed and the only movement were the crow's flapping wings as it flew away. Dawn took notice of the grocery bags that spelled its contents on the floor. Something else caught her eye, and that was a pink book of matches lying next to Abigail's foot.

"Sweeney?" Dawn finally said, her voice soft and hardly above a whisper.

"Yes?" He answered, feeling relieved that his hostess would be the one to break the ice.

"Could you get that there?" She pointed at the book of matches.

Obediently, Sweeney sat up and grabbed it. Bringing it up to his face he began to read the little letters that were written in black, however stopped upon seeing a little drawing of a woman in nothing but her birthday suit.

"Dear God, there's a naked woman on this box," his eyebrows were knitted together, still staring at it.

Dawn grabbed it, "it's only a print picture, relax," she paused upon reading the title, "The Grotesque Burlesque." (Yeah, I know… That's Marilyn Manson's… I can't think of anything alright?!)

"Burlesque? You mean one of those whore houses where women dance around in their corsets?"

Dawn gave him cut eye before she answered, "yes…those," she sat up, letting Abigail's head lay on her lap. She ran her fingers through her yellow hair trying her best not to cry… but it was all too surreal. She couldn't believe that her sister was dead…

Dawn half convinced herself that this was all a bad trip and the E she had must've had LCD in it, or something. However, she was so indulged in her thoughts, she didn't even notice the silence that was irking Sweeney.

With as much strength she could muster, Dawn tore her eyes away from his sister's face to look at the ex-serial killer. "You need to get back to the apartment," she said, black mascara running down her red cheeks.

"Why?" Sweeney asked, in a rather grim I'm-not-leaving-you-alone kind of way.

"Because at this moment, no one knows that you exist. I'm going to call for help—"

"Y'mean with that demonic ringing thing?"

"If you're talking about my cell phone, then yes," she said, remembering how her cell phone rung while they were playing chess (scared the daylights out of Todd when it did). "Anyway, I'm going to call for help. Go to the apartment and stay out of sight."

Sweeney was hesitant, but got the hint that Dawn was sure of herself as she sent him a forceful look.

"Fine, but if you are not back in 3 hours I am coming back," he stood up, brushed off his pants, and with one last look at the two sisters, one a live and one dead, he left.

It didn't take that long for the police to come to the tunnel, considering it was a homicide. After seeing the cops' reactions and faces when they saw her, covered in her sister's blood, she knew that it didn't look good for her. The chief pulled her up to her feet as the forensics team started to do their work around her body.

"Miss Dawn Hastings, is that right?" The chief asked.

Dawn nodded, "yeah that's right."

"My name is Chief Francis Brown; is it alright if I ask you some questions?"

Again, Dawn nodded.

"How old are you Miss Hastings?"

"21 years old."

"And how old was your sister?"

"18 years old."

"And what's her full name?"

"Abigail Elizabeth Turner."

"You two don't have the same last name?"

Dawn shook her head, "we're both adopted. Our adoptive guardian is Gabriel Potter: the owner of _Gabriel's Wing_."

"Oh," the chief chuckled a bit, "that place." Dawn couldn't understand why he was laughing—it was no laughing matter. She just stood there, her eyes burning into his face as he jotted down some notes.

"I heard that place was haunted," he stated mater-of-factly.

"So has everyone else," Dawn replied, showing a bit of an attitude.

Chief Brown had his eyes looking the papers he had in his hands, but upon hearing Dawn's tone, he raised his eyes and went straight to business.

"Miss Hastings, can you tell me why you decided to call the police almost 45 minutes after you found her?"

"I was _grieving_," she was already getting annoyed with him.

"You were grieving for you sister for 30 to 45 minutes?"

"I'd like to see you not start bawling if you see a sibling of yours mangled and dead."

"I'm an only child, but anyways," he flipped another page from the clipboard he was holding. "Can you explain why you are covered in your sister's blood?"

Dawn looked down, and noticed dark stains on her shirt and a larger one covering her entire left pant leg. She slowly looked up at the chief; he was dark skinned with black shaven hair. He didn't look that old, maybe in his 30s. His eyes were dark as night and he was considerably well built. Even though he was dark-skinned, from African decent, his skin colour was still light for his race. No doubt from the London chill, and lack of sun this town gets.

"I was cradling her in my arms," Dawn said simply.

Francis just looked at her, not believing it one bit, then changed the subject, "so, how did you know that your sister was in trouble?"

"Well," Dawn paused, quickly thinking of a lie. "I saw her walking out of the pub, heading towards the corner store, for what ever reason—" she motioned over to the plastic bags with the contents all over the floor, the milk was leaking everywhere, going into the cracks of the cobblestones. "—And I knew it wasn't safe, but I brushed it off. After 10 or so minutes of battling myself whether I should follow her or not, I decided to go… and then…" she trailed off, about to look at Abigail's body. That almost brought her back to tears, but she quickly tore her gaze away, far away.

The whole thing was a blur to her; when Gabriel finally got his lazy ass down there, to when they zipped up Abigail's body bag. With that one last glance at her sister's paling face, Dawn silently swore an oath to herself, that who ever did this to her sister, she will have his balls hanging over the dashboard of her future car, and his head on a silver platter. Vengeance now resided in her heart, and every where she looked, she saw blood, and hate. The only love she really ever had, was raped and murdered, and left on the floor like a useless doll.

After they took pictures of Dawn's clothes, Gabriel and Dawn trudged back home, neither of them saying a word. Dawn didn't go up to her apartment just yet, she went into the bar, into the back and to the kitchen. Gabriel said nothing but a good night, and 'we'll talk tomorrow.' After pouring herself a glass of milk, and making some toast and butter (double, incase Sweeney would want some), Dawn took her things and went up to her apartment. The door was unlocked as expected, but the lights were closed, except for a fairly dim one.

She knocked on the door silently, and said, "It's me, Dawn," before she entered. When she opened the door, she saw Sweeney laying on the couch reading Mrs. Lovett's Diary with a lit candle on one of the side tables.

"You know we have lamps," Dawn said softly as she tossed her coat on the trunk in the closet and closed the door behind her.

"Yeah, I know," he didn't tear his eyes from the page he was on, "couldn't find out how it worked. Hope you don't mind." His voice was just as distant as her own, but it was sort of comforting.

Sweeney closed the book, marking the spot he was at. He wouldn't dare force her to talk about what happened, seeing as he knows how painful it is to know that someone you love is lost, but in Dawn's case, Abigail wasn't coming back. Not as a madwoman, not like Lucy… at least Dawn didn't have to suffer the burden of knowing that you killed that person you love by your own hand.

Dawn plopped the plate on the table in front of the couch and took a seat on the floor, munching on her own slice. Sweeney helped himself to a piece and began to munch on it looking into the abyss not saying a word.

Finally, sick of the silences that seemed to consumed the entire night, Sweeney decided to say something. "I've continued to read Mrs. Lovett's Diary," he looked over at Dawn, who just held a mournful look. "Every entry she has written in was about how much she hated Lucy," he sighed, "in the end it worked out for her, I suppose; before I killed her that is." Todd took a small sip from Dawn's glass, who didn't mind.

Dawn wasn't paying attention to him, considering she was too overwhelmed in her thoughts. "I can't get her out of my head," she finally whispered.

"Ah yes," Sweeney nodded knowingly, "and now your heart can't decide if it wants to grieve, or if it wants revenge."

"yes," she replied, there was no emotion in her tone, but her eyes clearly showed what she was feeling.

"Then her presence haunts you, and you wonder if this is all your fault," he said this more to himself, but all the while Dawn could relate.

There was a pause before Sweeney tore his burning gaze away from the floor to look at his hostess, "in time, Miss Hastings, your hate will consume you, and the human race should fear it."

Dawn merely blinked, letting go a couple of tears which she quickly whipped away.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," Sweeney quoted, "you have an advantage, Miss Hastings. I will help you find Abigail's killer, for not only did a sister was taken away tonight, but my descendant." He turned to look at Dawn, who was now staring back at him with wide watery eyes. "I help you seek the vengeance you desire."

Dawn looked up at him wide eyed, "You mean kill someone?"

"If that's what we'll have to do then yes," Sweeney replied as if it was the easiest thing to do.

"I'm not going to kill someone! Are you crazy?"

Sweeney rolled his eyes, "Dawn, don't you think that the person or persons that did this to your beloved sister should be punished?"

Dawn hesitated, "…yes."

"Dawn, whoever done this to your Abigail deserves to die… this is the reason why all of man deserves to die!"

"Mr. Todd, you're getting out of hand…"

"Am I?" Sweeney turned to her, eyes as fierce as when he killed Judge Turpin.

_"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit  
And it's filled with people who are filled with shit  
And the vermin of the world inhabit it._

Sweeney turned sharply towards the large panel window and looked about the dark buildings of London. His face was pure of hate and anger. Taking another sharp turn and started to advance towards Dawn.

_"They all deserve to die.  
Tell you why, Miss Hastings, tell you why.  
Because in all of the whole human race  
Miss Hastings, there are two kinds of men and only two!  
There's the one they put in his proper place  
And the one with his foot in the other one's face  
Look at me, Miss Hastings, look at you._

He crouched down so he was sitting on his legs, as he was only a foot away from Dawn who was still seated cross-legged on the floor. Dawn's face flushed, her eyes still wide and mind running madly.

_"Now we all deserve to die  
Even you Miss Hastings...even I  
Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief  
For the rest of us death will be a relief  
We all deserve to die._

Sweeney's voice got more sorrowful,_ "And you'll never see your Abigail, and I'll never see my girl again…" _Dawn grabbed hold on his hands as they both slowly got onto their feet; Dawn's anger and hate took over her fear. _"I will have vengeance, I will have salvation," _she sang, letting the last word hang on one note before Sweeney took over the next verse.

_"Not one man, no, nor ten men.  
Not a hundred can assuage us,_

_We well have them!_

The two of them began to dance around the couches and finally stopped right in front of the panel window. _"And we'll will get them, with their backs turned, in the mean time we'll teach others a lesson to be learned!"_

Dawn had a more delicate high voice as she sung, "_and my sister lays in ashes…"_

Sweeney's was more forceful, _"and I'll never get to know my girl again."_

The two turned to each other, Sweeney's hands gripping onto Dawn's shoulders, who's eyes were staring back at his black ones. They both held the same look: vengeful, and psychotic. They both sang at the same time.

_"But the work waits,_

_I'm alive at last!_

_And I'm full of joy!"_

The two just stood there, looking at each other with identical looks. Their smiles crooked maliciously, eyes wide, pupils large, and with the very same thought in their heads—the enjoyment of the kill.

Sweeney was all too knowing of the enjoyment of the kill, and it was probably just cause this virgin of that particular sin was going to get her taste of this thrill. The sight of an innocent tainting their hands in red. Mind you, he realized Dawn was no innocent, but she hadn't killed anyone physically; not a lot of people have.

So here he was, gripping the shoulders of his shadow, a mad woman as he was a mad man. They both shared the same passion of revenge at that moment, and looking straight into Dawn's eyes was like looking straight into his own soul.

They both had something taken away from them this night. They will find who did it, and salvation will be theirs.

* * *

**A/N: . I feel really bad. I haven't updated in a while, and this one is a bit short. You can punish me if you want (. Sigh, anyways, things have been a little hectic, what with my new semester, which is equally as much work as the last even though I only have 3 classes to go to. And I know, I know, I made Sweeney a bit crazy in this one…well crazier than in the movie, but things will calm down, I hope. Ooo, do I sense a connection with Sweeney and Dawn? A spark of romance! Hah, I bet you guys were waiting for that to happen. REVIEW! Love you guys, xoxox. **

**Ps. Do you like my sad attempt at rhyming? **_**"And we'll will get them, with their backs turned, in the mean time we'll teach others a lesson to be learned!" **_**Sigh, I'm no good at poetry. **


	12. Ch Twelve: Vermillion

**The Crow: Care for a Shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll put the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Vermillion 

The building is just as black and old as the rest of the structures in London, but this one at least has no graffiti written all over it, and it's still in an okay part of town. This happened to be the police station.

Chief Francis Brown sips on his coffee that afternoon. 5 days have pass since the Fleet Street homicide took place, and today at 6 pm Abigail Turner's body would be buried. The forensics team haven't came to him just yet with the results, but that quickly changes when the door swung open.

"Excuse me, Chief," Brown looks up to see Kevin Taylor, the blood-splatter expert in the forensics team (a little bit of Dexter, haha).

Brown leans back in his chair, and signals with his hand that he can enter.

"The stains on Miss Hastings's clothes show that she didn't commit the crime," Kevin said as he put down the photos and his notes in front of Chief Brown.

The chief looks down at the photos then at his notes, as Kevin continues to talk. "There aren't enough droplets, and the larger patches of blood show that she was holding onto her head, and hugging her."

"What about the black hair we found, does it belong to Miss Hastings?" Francis raises his gaze up at the blood-splatter expert and puts the documents to the side.

"Well, that's the odd thing. We checked for DNA, and it didn't show any profile."

"What?"

"No profile that matches the hair's DNA; they've checked North America profiles, and Asia, but all said that the file doesn't exist."

"How is that possible? Did you check if it was an animal's?"

"Yes, sir. It showed that it was human hair."

At that, Chief Brown stands up, "Contact Miss Hastings, I want a strand of her hair."

"Yes, sir," Kevin turned and left the room, and headed for his office to make the phone call.

Dawn is in the bathroom straightening her hair. Sweeney is laying on the couch, possibly sleeping. Today is Abigail's burial, and Dawn couldn't be more depressed.

She unplugs the straightening iron, and replaces it with the curling one. She still has 5 hours until the ceremony began, and the limo doesn't come for another 3 hours. She starts to curl and style her hair into a 40s hairdo much like Veronica Lake's, and her attire was a black over bust corset with a black lace petticoat skirt that went down to her calves. Then she slips her feet into a pair of black closed-toe stilettos.

Clad in black, eyes brimmed with tears and mascara. Dawn always thought that Abigail would be in her place, and she would be the one in a coffin.

The door swings open, letting out the bit of steam that is still left from shower. Sweeney doesn't straight away notice until he hears heels hit the wooden floor. When he looks up, it isn't like anything he had seen before. A ghost, an angel, with a cloud of fog about her feet, a body hugged by dark cloth, and a corset that made her hour glass figure more noticeable.

"What?" Dawn asks dumbly.

"Uh, nothing. Nothing at all," Sweeney quickly turns his head back to the diary.

"Alright," she brushes it off and walks over to the closet and takes out a long wool coat that matches perfectly with the clothes she wore. "Are you coming to the ceremony?"

At this, Todd looks back up at her, "Would it be wise to show my face?"

"I'll say you're my boyfriend," she turns to look at him, "Gabriel isn't going. He has to stay at the Tavern."

"Alrigh'," a sigh, "I'll go later, when it's a bit darker."

Dawn nods agreeing with this, "Do you know where Trillium Cemetery is?"

Sweeney raises an eyebrow, "Trillium? Isn't that a manor for some aristocrats?"

Dawn shook her head, "no. Nobody's been living at that old house in decades. It's a cemetery now."

"Lot's of things changed while I was dead."

"That's an understatement. Anyway, I'll meet you behind the manor at sunset."

Before Sweeney could answer, Dawn hears a car drive onto the side walk. It has already been 3 hours? Dawn must've been in the bathroom longer than she thought.

"Limo is here," she said, still looking out the window. The driver walks out of the driver's seat and starts to head for the stair case that goes up to the apartment.

"I'll see you later," with that Dawn opens and closes the door before the driver got half way up the stairs.

"Oh, Miss Hastings?" The driver says as he stops mid way, "Sorry to come and hour and a half early, but there are some legal issues to be done first. It's at the funeral home, so there isn't much traveling to do."

"I see. Is Gabriel coming for that?"

"He is, but after words he is to leave back to the _Wing_."

Dawn nodded, _figures._

On the other side of town, a much richer part of London, Eric stands against a wall idly smoking a cigarette. Felix only talked to him before the incident, but after that Eric never saw him, and today being the funeral he is sure he might see his boss again.

Eric made sure his cronies hid any kind of evidence of the crime. They were quick to kill, but slow in procedure, and that is why Eric hired them. The reason Eric hadn't done the deed himself is because he couldn't bring himself to it. Sure he had the idea, but he couldn't make himself violate such a pure and innocent being. No matter, it is over, and Eric just has to rid his heart from any form of remorse. That's what he was taught to do.

One thing plagues his mind though; it always plagues his mind. What could've happened if Dawn and him never broken up. What would've happened if Dawn had shut up and just obeyed him. He had to slap her, she was high as fuck! It wasn't even that hard, and she had to go to the police and cry and weep about how he _abused_ her. Exaggeration!

Even though Eric hates her for it, he still obsesses with her completely. In his dreams, he sees her, when he is drunk, stoned, or shagging a whore, it is always her face in front of him. Mad with lust, hate and greed. Once Felix gets what he wants from her, Eric will get her back, if any means necessary.

Tossing the cigarette bud to the floor and stepping on it with his foot, Eric turns and heads back to the large house that he calls his home, his head quarters, his hang out. No body is there right now, only Cybil, the hunchback of London, so at least Eric has time by himself.

Walking up to his own bedchambers, Eric tosses his coat on the banister. Closing the door behind him he falls onto the mattress with his hands behind his head.

(This song is called _Vermillion pt 1_ by Slipknot)

_"She seems dressed in all the rings,  
Of past fatalities,  
So fragile yet so devious,_

A smile crept on the man's lips, and with his eyes still shut he continues on.

_"She continues to see,  
Climatic hands that press,  
Her temples and my chest,_

His hand grazed his chest as it lid down to his stomach, then he turns to his side and stares at the small panel window, then gets up from the bed and heads for it.

_"Enter the night that she came home,  
Forever…_

_Oh, She's the only one that makes me sad…_

He placed his hand on the panel and looked out at the gloomy gray sky. The streets are near empty, and the clouds were moving fast over the city, signaling for rain.

_"She is everything and more,  
The solemn hypnotic,  
My Dahlia, bathed in possession.  
She is so into me._

I get nervous, perverse when I see her it's worse,  
But the stress is astounding.  
It's now or never she's coming home,  
Forever_…_

Smirk plastered on his face, Eric turns on his foot and leans his back on the window, and slowly slides down to the floor, while murmuring "_Oh, she's the only one that makes me sad…_" He snaps out of his daze and starts to crawl across the floor; his voice higher and more aggressive.

_"Hard to say what caught my attention,  
Vixen crazy, Aphid Attraction.  
Carve my name in my face, to recognize,  
Such a pheromone cult to terrorize._

He stops crawling and turns to lay on his back and begins to chant:

_"I won't let this build up inside of me,_

_I won't let this build up inside of me,_

_I won't let this build up inside of me,_

_I won't let this build up inside of me!_

He shuts his eyes tightly and arches his back, his voice much more higher and filled with ecstasy.

_"I'm a slave, and I am a master,  
No restraints and, unchecked collectors.  
I exist through my need, to self-oblige,  
She is something in me that I despise!_

_I won't let this build up inside of me,_

_I won't let this build up inside of me,_

_I won't let this build up inside of me,  
I won't let this build up inside of me,_

_I won't let this build up inside of me,_

_I won't let this build up inside of me,_

_I won't let this build up inside of me!_

Breathing deeply, Eric's eyes were still tightly shut. He turns on his side and rests his head on his elbow, and slowly opens his eyes just a bit and softly sings to himself.

_"She isn't real, I can't make her real  
She isn't real, I can't make her real…"_

It had been 20 minutes ago that Dawn and Gabriel arrived at Mr. Weiss' office. Mr. Weiss is their lawyer and would be telling the two who will be inheriting Abigail's money and property.

"Legally," Mr. Weiss began as he finally looks over the documents, "Miss Turner's inheritance money from her birth parents is to go Gabriel if Abigail ever died—"

"What?" Dawn asks astonish. Surely Abigail wouldn't give Gabriel her money, if anything she would've donated to a charity, knowing her sister.

"Miss Turner never made a will, she was far too young. The money will be Gabriel's responsibility." At that Dawn turns her head to Gabriel who nods in 'understanding'.

"However, " Weiss began again, but Dawn never tore her icy gaze from Gabriel who 'didn't notice', "Abigail's belongings, and the property belong to Dawn."

Dawn isn't paying attention, but Gabriel sure was, "What?!" He was utterly confused, and at this, it finally sunk into Dawn's head, "what?" she mimicked.

"W-well, Abigail's parents originally owned the property you live in. Both the pub, a-and the apartment up stairs," Weiss explained in a hurry.

"How can that be? I owned that place since—"

"Yes, since you adopted the girls. The only reason you live there right now is because of Abigail's parents. Since Abigail was older than 18, the family property belonged to her. Did we not tell you that?"

"NO!" Gabriel bellows.

Dawn's icy stare turns into amused smirk and look.

"W-well, it seems that Mr. and Mrs. Turner had also wrote that if anything were to happen to their dear Abigail, that the property – after the age of 18 – will go to the closest blood relative."

"'Closest blood relative?'" Dawn repeats, this time her amused expression now a confused one, "but I'm not—"

"Yes, actually you are, Miss Hastings. Abigail and yourself are both distant half cousins, the only living relative with the same blood—that we know of that is."

Dawn slowly turns toward Gabriel who has a some-what worried yet irritated look, "Did you know of this?"

"Well—"

"Is that a yes or no?! Is that the reason why you were reluctant to tell us who our birth parents are?!"

"Mr. Potter!" Weiss exclaims looking outraged at Gabriel, "these girls are entitled to know their parents' at the age of 16!"

"16? You said it was 18!" Dawn is even more outraged than their lawyer.

"Mr. Potter! That goes against many legal obligations, I'm afraid that you're going to loose custody over these—this woman!"

"Wh-" Gabriel began but is cut off by Weiss.

"No if, ands, buts, or whats, Mr. Potter. In a week's time you will be stripped from the responsibilities of Miss Hastings, and the inheritance money."

After that meeting, Gabriel rushes to the bar, in a heap of anger. Dawn is the complete opposite, she road the limousine with anything but a broken heart. It is still filled with grief for her sister, but to know that she got rid of Gabriel, her joy is merely from that she will honour Abigail's name. Gabriel will not get away with this, Dawn will make sure of it.

First Dawn left to the ceremony, which is in the church just across the street. The people who attended are Abigail's classmates and professors, old high school friends, and some people her and Abigail have befriended at the bar. When each person important went up to say a few words about Abigail, it is finally Dawn's turn. She silently walks up to the alter and stands in front the 2 dozen people. She can't say anything, her lips are parted but not a word comes out. Instead a final tear rolls down her cheek and her eyes are left staring into an abyss, not caring or feeling people around her.

(This song is called _Hello_ by Evanescence)

_"Playground school bell rings again,  
Rain clouds come to play again.  
Has no one told you she's not breathing?  
Hello I am your mind giving you someone to talk to,  
Hello. _

If I smile and don't believe,  
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream.  
Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken.  
Hello I'm the lie living for you so you can hide,  
Don't cry.

Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping.  
Hello I'm still here,  
All that's left of yesterday…" 

Without a word, Dawn steps off the alter, the priest began the prayer, and the strongest men in the audience lifts the casket and starts to carry it outside toward the cemetery.

The burial itself is just as much of a blur to Dawn as was ceremony. Blank faces, paler than usually stare mournfully down at the casket covered in white roses and red roses. Slowly the box starts to descend to the ground 6 feet under.

After people had paid their respects and left, Dawn stands in her spot, staring at the dirt that mounted over Abigail's final resting place. She never changed her expression since the ceremony, her heart is a mixture of emotions at this point; love, guilt, grief, sorrow, hate, vengeance. A hand gently touches her shoulder and she turns around a bit too quickly, startling the man.

"Oh, I'm sorry if I disturbed you," said the man who has short dark brown hair, a stubble upon his chin and cheeks. Dawn made note of his kind brown eyes, broad shoulders, and friendly aura that he gives as he just stands there smiling sheepishly.

Kevin Taylor stares back at the girl in front of him. He recognizes Dawn Hastings from the pictures, but he has to agree that she is much more prettier in person. Even with her pale skin, and mascara running down her flushed cheeks, Dawn is a remarkable woman to look at.

Quickly, Kevin shakes his head to snap himself out of it, "W-we took a look at your clothes, and found that the blood patterns on them indicated that you didn't… kill your sister."

Dawn can't help but roll her eyes, "well of course I didn't kill my sister!"

Again, Kevin smiles sheepishly, "I know. You don't seem like the one to kill any thing, really." Before Dawn could respond to that, Kevin hastily went on, "well we need just a couple of strands of your hair."

"What for?" Dawn raises an eyebrow.

"W-well, it's a bit confidential, but it involves a DNA test. We just need to clarify something."

Not in the mood to ask any more questions, Dawn nods. Kevin reaches in his pocket and pulls out a small pair of tweezers, "Alright, this will only take a moment…" He reaches over and gently takes a few strands and clips them. It isn't until after the snip that the two realize that they are considerably close to each other. Kevin doesn't retreat back, he only stands in his spot as Dawn stares back at him.

"_Dawn_!" A more dark and muscular voice cuts the tension between the two youths, and quickly Kevin stumbles backwards just as Sweeney Todd comes to stand next to Dawn.

* * *

**A/n: Sorry if this is a bit short, but I've been getting research projects left and right! One about Music videos, one about JD Salinger, and one on… Well I haven't chose the topic yet, but it's a history project! Not to mention I have major cramps and I want to die. Anyway, I put up a picture of Chief Francis Brown and Kevin Taylor, so go see how they look…Oh, and I put up a poll that maybe you should vote on. It's a poll on what series I should do after the POTC one I'm working on now. Also, since I'm taking Writer's Craft, I'm editing my works more closely. I've noticed that I right in past tense, which I really need to stop doing. So starting now I'm going to force myself to write present tense. You have no idea how long it took me to edit this. Anyway, happy readings, love the support, xoxox Love you guys!**

**Ps. Check out my website.  
Brutal Truth, Brutal blogs; the-brutal-reportx at PICZO **

**xpunkiex: Your review touched my heart when I read it. I got all blush-y and flattered, lol. I'm sorry to hear about your grandma, mine died a year a go, and 4-5 months before her my grandfather died. It's still weird to think that they're gone, because I'm so used to seeing them every weekend. This chapter is dedicated to you. **


	13. Ch Thirteen: My Immortal

**The Crow: Care for a Shave? **

**Summery: **

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll put the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: My Immortal

There's a small awkward silence between the three before Dawn hastily takes Sweeney's arm and drags him nearer to her incase he is planning on something.

"Baby, this is—I'm sorry I didn't catch your name?"

Kevin quickly snaps his head away from the man and Dawn's hands which were linked together, "O-oh, my names is Kevin. Kevin Taylor, from forensics."

"Mr. Taylor if I may be too bold to ask, as to why you were leaning over so closely to my woman?" Sweeney asks as though he were of higher status.

"Well I was just, I was just getting a few strands of hair—" Kevin stumbles with his words, then Sweeney quickly interrupts.

"Strands of hair? What for? Mr. Taylor if you had not noticed me and Miss Hastings here are courting with each other. And what ever obsession you have over the woman should be sustained—" at that Dawn reaches over and clasps her hand over Sweeney's mouth to prevent any more words to come out. Grabbing his cheeks and forcing Sweeney to look at her she says, "It's for the forensics team. They need to do a DNA test."

At that Sweeney gave her an odd stare which clearly meant 'what the hell is DNA?'. Still, not giving him a chance to speak, Dawn lets go of his face and turns to look at Kevin.

"Sorry about that. He didn't take his pill this morning," Dawn explains.

"It's okay. Understandable. Uh, well, I'll go… Nice meeting you Miss Hastings, and Mister…?"

"Smith!" Sweeney finally says, "or Smithy, if you like." (I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. Little Jack Sparrow humour.)

"Nice meeting you both," with another sheepish smile Kevin leaves and starts to head for a black Goldwing premium Honda motorcycle.

After Kevin sped off, Dawn turns to Sweeney speechless.

"Care to explain to me what this DNA thing is?" Sweeney asks not bothered by the raised eyebrow Dawn has on.

Rolling her eyes, she starts to walk and explain, Sweeney in her tow. "It's hard to explain," she begins. "It's like a code, or something that's within any body part or bodily fluid, hair included. Salvia, hair, urine, blood, skin tissue… pubic juices. This code that is hidden within those substances shows the person's profile in a way. Their age, name, sex, race, family, and where they come from."

"All that from bodily fluids and hair?"

"Yes."

"How do they get to this… 'code'?"

"How the hell would I know? They do all this science crap that I don't understand."

On their way back to the apartment, Dawn explains what happened at the funeral home, and what Gabriel had done. Sweeney gets angry at this, but not so angry that he would yell in fits of rage, which is something Dawn wanted to do while she was in there.

The breeze got more fierce; Sweeney lifts up his face and smelt the air. "It's going to rain soon," he says filling in the silence.

"How do you know?" Dawn asks now looking up at him.

"You can smell the dampness of the air. Can you not smell it?"

"No."

Sweeney rolls his eyes, "we better hurry before the rain hits."

They were only a dozen yards away from the apartment, and with great effort Dawn picks up her dress and tries to keep up with Sweeney's running pace. "Slow down!" she finally barks as he was 20 feet away from her, "It's difficult running in these shoes!" Just then a flash of light reflects itself against the gray clouds followed by a cackle of thunder echoing against the allies of London.

"Good Lord," Todd mutters as he turns around and scoops up Dawn carrying her bridal style. Another rumble of thunder sounds and Sweeney sprints back to the apartment; to him he was running normally, but to Dawn he was running at an inhumane speed.

They got through the door just before the rain hit the floor. Sweeney places Dawn down before closing and locking the door. When he turns to look at her, Dawn has this puzzled expression on.

"What?" he asks.

"What the hell was that?"

Sweeney looks at her confused, "…rain? Do you not have rain in the 21st century?"

"No, not that! You were running so damn fast."

"Was I?"

Dawn shakes her head, "never mind, it was probably my imagination," she changes the subject, "when did Gabriel come back to the pub?"

"He never came, I thought he stayed with you," Sweeney says going through the trunk and tossing the useless books not looking at her.

"What? He left us and went to the _Wing_."

"Um, no I don't think he did. The bar was and still is closed. I saw no one come in or out."

"That's very odd," Dawn says as she walks over to her bed, the wood next to it creaking around her feet. She picks up a pair of clothes that are left at the foot of the bed and heads for the bathroom to change out of her gown. When she comes out her hair was out of it's pretty curls, the make up washed from her face, and her skinny figure was clad in a baggy black t shirt with a Rob Zombie logo on it, and gray sweat pants.

"What _are_ you wearing?" Sweeney asks as he takes a seat in the arm chair.

"Comfortable clothing. Which reminds me, you need suitable clothing if you want to fit in with this century."

"I do not care to fit in with this century," he replies grimly.

"Well, I am sorry, but they are going to think you're a nutter if you walk around wearing Victorian clothing."

Sighing, he gives in, rubbing his cheek and chin. "I think I'll be needing a shave as well," he points out after feeling the stubble upon his cheek.

"Sorry, I'm not a barber—" Dawn cuts herself off while looking through a wardrobe, remembering that she is currently living with the Demon Barber himself.

"But I am one," he finishes as he fishes through his pocket and pulls out his friend, his razor. For a moment a flicker of fear flashes across the Dawn's face, but it quickly disappears when she turns back to the wardrobe. Sweeney doesn't notice this of course, as he is too busy admiring his tool. (every time I read that line, it still sounds perverted to me)

"Do you happen to have any lather?" Sweeney asks.

"Er, I have shaving cream… but it's for women's legs," Dawn answers as she tosses a pair of black trousers onto the floor.

"Water will do then," Sweeney stands up and heads for the bathroom.

"So you know how to work the taps?" Dawn asks almost jokingly.

"I know how to work a basin!" Sweeney shot back from inside the bathroom.

"It's a sink," she smiles to herself.

Sweeney closes the door behind him as he takes a look around the bathroom. Never had he seen one so glamourous in his life time. The tiles were sleek black and the basin was white sitting upon the counter with the faucet hanging over it. Despite the fact that Sweeney is baffled at the idea of how they were able to get the faucet to work inside a home, he turns it on. Just about to put the razor to his cheek he sees the water not build up in the bowl, but leak through a hole at the very center of it. Confused, he looked around the basin to see it wasn't leaking anywhere, so he peered under the cabinets that were under the counter and saw a pipe ticking out from the ceiling of the cabinet and going into the wall. It suddenly clicked to him on how they managed to do it. "Genius," he mutters.

Outside, Dawn kept herself busy by looking for clothes that might suit Sweeney. Ask me why she had a closet full of men's clothing, and I couldn't tell you; if anything it came from ex boyfriends who didn't retrieve their belongings after a night in her bed. Going deeper into the clothes inside the wardrobe, Dawn finds something pink and white, and slowly she pulls it out. It was nothing but a small dress fit for a little girl, but not just any little girl, this dress belonged to Abigail just before the two moved into the apartment. In fact, Abigail, if Dawn could remember, was wearing this dress the first time they stepped foot inside the apartment.

_"Be careful, girls," says a much younger Gabriel Potter. A smaller 6 year old Dawn giggles. Her hair isn't messy, but in perfect dark brown curls that fall around her shoulders beautifully. Her bright eyes beams and can show the innocence of her youth. "Don't worry, Mr. Potter! These stairs can't pull me down!" She is wearing a light purple dress with straps, and a white blouse underneath. White stockings hugged her small calves and black Mary Jane shoes on her feet. _

_"C'mon, Abigail!" Dawn calls out to her littler sister, whom is about 3 years old. The little one's yellow girls were pulled into two pig tails, with some strands of hair falling around her ivory coloured face. "I'm comin'! I'm comin'!" Abigail says as she climbs up the old stairs with all the strength her little legs could give her. The 3 year old is wearing a light pink dress that seemed much more formal than her older counterpart's. It has a white petticoat skirt, with a light pink top with long sleeves. White tights clung to her tiny legs, and her own pair of white Mary Jane shoes. _

_Little Dawn is already at the top, waiting for her now younger sister. Gabriel is just behind the infant helping her not fall off the stairs. Finally the littler one got to the top, and the two sister share a high-five. They watched patiently yet excitingly as Gabriel pulls out a ring of keys and unlocks the door. _

_Inside their new home is dreadful, even the two girls could agree with that. However, it didn't halt their happiness, as Dawn is the first person to walk into the door, followed closely by Abigail. "Watch your step," Gabriel informs them as they went to explore. _

_"What's in here?" Dawn asks as she skips over to a large trunk and tries to open it. Gabriel goes over and gets on one knee to check it out, leaving the 3 year old to explore on her own. _

_Abigail looks around in awe. Despite the fact that the walls are black with age, and the floor is decaying ever so slowly, this place seemed amazing in her eyes. A large panel window catches her attention as she slowly walks toward it; it has an amazing view of London which smiles brightly back at her with a sunny sky and friendly clouds. She stands somewhere near the back of apartment in front of the massive window, ignoring the creaking the old floor were making beneath her. _

_Giving up on trying to pick the old lock on the trunk, Gabriel stands and quickly notices the youngest isn't next to him. He does a 360 and finally spots the young one standing at the other side of the room looking out into the large window. Something else catches his eye, which is the wood beneath her feet, shifting and bending under her weight. "Abigail!" He shouts and starts to jog over, but just then the floor snaps open. Abigail yelps, but it is cut off short when Gabriel grabs her around the waist before she can fall into the now gaping hole in the floor. _

_Gabriel cautiously puts down the young girl on the floor and pears into the gaping whole for a second. An awful smell is emerging from the abyss, so he starts to push Abigail towards the exit. "C'mon, let's go down stairs." Abigail obeyed him, her heart still beating fast and grateful to leave to her safety. _

_Dawn is equally as shaken up, but something made her stay. Slowly walking over to the hole in the ground, making sure the floor would not snap under her feet. The 6 year old looked deep into the darkness, trying not to be bothered by the stench that it was enveloping. A memory, or a ghost, Dawn doesn't know, but she spots a pale face of a woman in the darkness with tangled yellow hair flying around her head as she fell into the void. _

_"Dawn!" Startled, Dawn turns around to see her new adoptive father. "What're you doing? Yer going to getting yourself killed! C'mon!" Gabriel grabs a hold of her arm and leads her out the door; Dawn looks back once and after that forgets what she had seen. _

That memory brought tears to the eyes of a 21 year old Dawn Hastings. That happened 15 years ago, and all Dawn could think about is how Abigail could've gotten hurt then, but didn't. And how Abigail looked incredibly cute in her little pink and white dress. The tears stains the fabric of the dress as Dawn sits on her late sister's bed. Her thumb strokes the material affectionately as if it were a child itself.

(This song is called _My Immortal_ by Evanescence)

_"I'm so tired of being here,  
Suppressed by all my childish fears… _

Her voice is small and delicate, like the little girl that once wore the dress that is clutched in her hands. Her voice cracks with her small sobs, but the older sister continues on.

_"And if you have to leave,  
I wish that you would just leave.  
'Cause your presence still lingers here,  
And it won't leave me alone. _

At that moment, Sweeney steps out of the bathroom, his cheek bare of stubble, and a presence that goes unnoticed to the woman that sings in front of him.

_"These wounds won't seem to heal,  
This pain is just too real.  
There's just too much that time cannot erase! _

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears,  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears,  
And I held your hand through all of these years,  
But you still have  
All of me… _

Todd's expression is sullen, but in his heart, or what was left of it, he feels a tug. The way his hostess sings this song, a song she believes to be singing to herself alone, holds something different than any other song he heard escape from her lips.

_"You used to captivate me  
By your resonating light,  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind.  
Your face it haunts  
My once pleasant dreams,  
Your voice it chased away  
All the sanity in me… _

In those simple words, Sweeney Todd is reminded of Lucy, his daughter, and Abigail. His gaze falls to the floor as the tug in his heart comes harder, and in a blink of an eye Sweeney is bombarded with memories. They aren't bad memories, like the ones he had seen when he first stepped into the apartment when he came back to life. No, they are happy memories, of him, Lucy and their daughter Joanna.

_"These wounds won't seem to heal,  
This pain is just too real.  
There's just too much that time cannot erase! _

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears,  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears,  
And I held your hand through all of these years,  
But you still have  
All of me… _

Dawn stands up from the bed, still looking down at the small dress in her hands. Sweeney's presence still goes unnoticed as she makes her way to the very same spot where the floor tumbled under Abigail's small feet. The wood creaks under her weight.

_"I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone… _

Her voice is getting higher, and less hoarse from her crying. She raises her head to look up at the massive panel window, the same way Abigail did 15 years ago. It is the next verse that has Sweeney feel his heart beat for the first time since he was taken away from his woman and child.

_"But though you're still with me,  
I've been alone all along! _

More memories leak into the serial killer's mind, what he found strange is that they aren't memories about Lucy, or Joanna, or even Mrs. Lovett, but memories of the past few days he spent with his hostess. To when he first saw her at the bar giving him gin, to when he saved her life from that wretched boy, to when he held onto her while she wept into her sister's hair. And then finally to when they sang their duet and held each other's gaze for a long while.

_"When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears,  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears,  
And I held your hand through all of these years,  
But you still have  
All of me…"_

_

* * *

_

**A/n: Sorry it's so short, but I wanted a quick update. Though I'm quite proud at how much small details being revealed in this chapter. I also found that My Immortal would be the perfect song to be sung, and I was waiting for the perfect chapter to stick it in, so I chose this one. Also there is a poll in my homepage that decides what I should write after the POTC series. VOTE PLEASE! Happy readings, xoxo. Thanks for the support! **

**Disguisedxlies: I'm glad you think so, I was starting to think that he was getting a bit OOC. **

**Xpunkiex: You're not a nerd, lol. Believe me, I get all teary eyed when I see those Save an African child commercials, or those anti-animal abuse commercials. **

**Andaere: There's never enough insane serial killers in a story, in my opinion!**


	14. Ch Fourteen: Fighter

**The Crow: Care for a Shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll put the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Thanks for making me a fighter 

Kevin Taylor leans against his chair. He's been in that office for several hours, and it's nearly midnight. He currently has nothing to do; he finished his paper work, and gave the hairs to Veronica Quinn the DNA expert in forensics. The young adult nearly fell asleep when a knocking erupts his relaxation.

"Sorry!" Says a shy east Asian woman, Veronica, "but I've got the results from Miss Hastings's hairs."

"Oh?" Kevin stands up straight in his chair now looking at her, "were the hairs from the crime scene the same match?"

"No. Dawn's profile shows up, so it's obviously not her hairs. What do you suppose it could be?"

Kevin shrugs, "I have no idea. Have you told Brown yet?"

"I've sent him an email, he already went home."

Kevin nods then thinks of something, "hey, do you think it's just hairs from a coat or something?"

"…no… I thought we established that the hairs are from a human."

"Oh right," he sighs, and pauses. "Hey, what does courting mean?"

"What?"

"What's courting mean?"

"Er, I think it's some old fashioned way of saying going out together. Y'know boyfriend, and girlfriend. Why do you ask?"

"Well when I went to go see Hastings today, I guess her boyfriend came by. He just said something like 'you do realize Miss Hastings and I are courting with each other,'" Kevin says in his best impression of the odd man.

"I never knew she had a boyfriend," Quinn cocks her head to the side.

"Yeah, neither did I. Though Brown never asked that when he was questioning her…"

"Hmm… Well, what's his name?"

"Smith. No first name, so that can be just about anyone in all of England."

"Then what did he look like?"

"Uh," Kevin pauses trying to remember "Kinda shady character: pale skin, gray bags under his eyes, which where near to black, and black hair with a streak of white near his forehead."

There's a hesitation before Veronica says anything, "black hair you say?"

Kevin slowly looks up to her as it finally clicks in his mind, "you don't think--?"

"Hmm, let's see. Murky character, pale, goes by the name _'Smith'_, has black hair… anything else?"

"He was wearing some old black trench coat and a really old blouse, and I've never seen him in my life if he were homeless."

"So I think we have a suspect!" Veronica takes out a note pad and starts jotting down notes.

"Yeah…All we need now is a name."

1:00 am, and Dawn lays on the bed, not sleeping, not awake, but in her own world. Sweeney kicks off his shoes and his coat and vest leaving him in his blouse and trousers. He made himself comfortable on the couch using his elbow as a pillow, ignoring the one that is on the floor. He doesn't shut his eyes, they're fixed on the table in front of him. Zoning out Sweeney hears a door slam downstairs, which could only mean that Gabriel is back. Dawn is awake also, so she obviously hears it as well. It isn't till 10 minutes after that Sweeney finally said something.

"Do you want me to drop off that plate?"

"What plate?" Dawn asks, her voice distant.

"The plate you brought up a week ago when…" he stops himself, "with toast and butter, and a glass of milk?"

"Oh," She sighs, "no, I'll get it."

At this Sweeney looks up at his hostess as she slowly makes her way to the small table. He doesn't protest, thinking it would be best if she brought it down incase Gabriel would pop up.

Dawn trudges over to the table and picks up the plate, but something suddenly stops her. Or rather some memory.

_"Well," Dawn pauses, quickly thinking of a lie. "I saw her walking out of the pub, heading towards the corner store, for what ever reason—" she motions over to the plastic bags with the contents all over the floor, the milk is leaking everywhere, going into the cracks of the cobblestones_.

The contents in the groceries were mainly bread and milk, and medicine for Dawn when she was "sick". "But we had milk and bread," Dawn mummers to herself.

"What?" Sweeney raises an eyebrow at her.

"We had it…Gabriel…" the plate falls from her trembling fingers smashing into dozens of pieces, and yet another memory flashes before her.

_Dawn is sitting at the curb of the road watching Gabriel talking to Chief Brown, whom is questioning him. "We had no milk and bread, so I politely asked her to go get it," Gabriel answers. Brown nods, "and what time was this?"_

_"'Round 10 or 11 I believe, sir."_

"What is it? What's wrong?" Sweeney is now sitting up right watching Dawn tremble with anxiety. Her wide bright eyes are wild and staring hard at the floor.

"We had it! We had it!"

"Had what?!" Sweeney says in the brink of frustration.

Dawn snaps her gaze at the serial killer, her wild eyes now show malice. "Gabriel," she says through gritted teeth, "said he sent Abigail to get milk and bread!"

"So?"

"So?! So, we already had milk and bread! Tons of it from when I saw it! HE SENT ABIGAIL TO HER DEATH! HE KNEW OF THIS!"

"Now, now, calm down," Sweeney suddenly feels like he is in Mrs. Lovett's place when she tried to calm him down.

"NO! He did this! It's his fault!" Without warning Dawn turns on her heel and whips the glass that is in her hand at the wall. At this Sweeney stands up and grabs her arm before she could take off.

"Dawn," he says firmly. Dawn turns to look at him her expression not changing, if anything it is much worse. "Here," he takes her hand and places something smooth and cold in it. Looking down she sees the razor; _his_ razor. Never taking her eyes off of his, and neither does he, she raises her arm to her chest and clutches the weapon close to her heart. Without a word, but only a lingering look she marches out the door.

Gabriel heard every crash and yell from upstairs, though he is still completely unaware that his adoptive daughter isn't alone up there. He walks out of his bedroom and is heading towards the bar area, but it's too late, Dawn is already standing at the archway.

"What the hell are you doin' up there?" Gabriel barks, but slowly has to back away since Dawn herself starts to advance on him.

"Why?" She says feeling the length of the razor on her thigh inside of her pocket.

"What're you talking about, girl?"

"YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT, YOU BASTARD!"

"WHA—" Gabriel is outraged, never had one of his girls spoke to him so boldly, not even Dawn. Regardless, Dawn cuts him off.

"You sent Abigail to go get bread and milk. I'm not stupid, Gabriel, I know we already had it!"

"I have know clue what you are talking about, you crazy bitch—" Dawn back hands him across the face causing him to stumble and fall against a wall.

"Why'd you do it?"

Feeling that there is no use in denying it, Gabriel chuckles a little bit, which irritates her more so she kicks him in the shins, "answer the fucking question!"

"If anything were to happen to her," Gabriel starts with a mocking smile on his now bleeding lip, "then I will be getting her parents' money. I would've gotten the property too, if I only read the will properly. Didn't know a whore like you is remotely related to her—"

Dawn punches him square in the eye causing the larger man to sink down the floor, but he still laughs.

"You planned this all along?" Dawn says, her hands twitching itching to get at the razor in her pocket. _Be patient._

"Nah, I only thought about it. But my dream did come true when a certain familiar face came at my door with a proposal."

"Who?"

"Oh, you know him, Dawn."

Dawn kicks him in the face, causing him to spit out blood from his bleeding gums, "tell me who it is!"

"Oh, believe me, you'll find out," he laughs looking up at her amused. "And after you're gone, I'll get the money back, and the property is mine."

Dawn's eyes narrow down at him, her hand twitching still. Gabriel takes this moment to get on his feet, and just as he is about to grab the 21 year old's neck, she turns away whipping out the blade from the handle and sinking it into his abs and stomach cutting it all the way across.

Gabriel halts, and sinks back a foot behind hitting the wall. He puts a hand on his bleeding abdomen and looks up at Dawn who now seems so much taller than him.

(This song is called _Fighter_ by Christina Aguilera)

_"After all you put me through," _Dawn raises the razor, the light reflecting off it's surface, and the blood standing out proudly. "_You'd think I'd despise you, but in the end, I wanna thank you 'cause you made me that much stronge_r." She walks around him like a wolf circling her wounded pray just before she will devour it.

_"Well I thought I knew you, thinkin' that you were true.  
Guess I, I couldn't trust, called your bluff time is up,  
'Cause I've had enough.  
You were there by my side, always down for the ride,  
But your joy ride just came down in flames_

_Cause your greed sold me out of shame, mhm…_

Sweeney is standing just outside the door watching this whole ordeal. He wouldn't, couldn't miss this for the world.

_"After all of the stealing and cheating you probably think that  
I hold resentment for you,  
But uh uh, oh no, you're wrong…_

Dawn waves her finger in front of the cowering Gabriel. His eyes watch her very step and move, but mainly which direction she points the razor that shines with his blood.

_"'Cause if it wasn't for all that you tried to do, I wouldn't know  
Just how capable I am to pull through.  
So I wanna say thank you  
'Cause it…_

_Makes me that much stronger,  
Makes me work a little bit harder,  
Makes me that much wiser,  
So thanks for making me a fighter,  
Made me learn a little bit faster,  
Made my skin a little bit thicker,  
Makes me that much smarter,  
So thanks for making me a fighter!_

In the heap of her adrenaline she kicks down an innocent chair off to the side and stands in it's place singing, yelling at her former adoptive father. She points the razor in his face, and he cautiously stares back at it.

_"Never saw it coming, all of your backstabbing,  
Just so you could cash in on a good thing before I'd realize your game.  
I heard you're goin' round playin' the victim now,  
But don't even begin feeling I'm the one to blame,  
'Cause you dug your own grave!_

She growls the last word and then walks back and forth like a caged tiger. _"After all of the fights and the lies, 'cause you're wanting to haunt me," _she stops pacing and glowers down at Gabriel who shrinks further to the floor, _"But that won't work anymore, no more, no, no," _she waves the blade back and forth for emphases,_ "It's over." _She turns around for a moment facing the pictures nailed to the wall, none of which were of her or Abigail, just posters, bands, and his friends.

_"'Cause if it wasn't for all of your torture,  
I wouldn't know how to be this way now and never back down._

She turns around on her heel and crouches down a bit almost at his eye-level.

_"So I wanna say thank you,  
'Cause it…_

_Makes me that much stronger,  
Makes me work a little bit harder,  
It makes me that much wiser,  
So thanks for making me a fighter,  
Made me learn a little bit faster,  
Made my skin a little bit thicker,  
Makes me that much smarter,  
So thanks for making me a fighter!_

She turns away from him as if ashamed that this man raised her since she was 6 years old. Walking to the other side of the room she sinks to the floor, and sings more delicately.

_"How could this man I thought I knew,  
Turn out to be unjust so cruel.  
Could only see the good in you,  
Pretended to not to see the truth.  
You tried to hide your lies, disguise yourself  
Through living in denial…_

She turns back to him, he never left his possession, but his eyes always followed her. Dawn's own eyes flare, still on her knees she crawls over to his bleeding form, and yells more forcefully: _"but in the end you'll see, YOU-WON'T-STOP-ME!" _She forces herself back up to her feet and towers over him.

_"I am a fighter and I,  
I ain't goin' stop.  
There is no turning back,  
I've had enough._

_Makes me that much stronger,  
Makes me work a little bit harder,  
It makes me that much wiser,  
So thanks for making me a fighter,  
Made me learn a little bit faster,  
Made my skin a little bit thicker,  
Makes me that much smarter,  
So thanks for making me a fighter!_

She picks him up from his collar and roughly shoves him in an arm chair. Gabriel winces in pain clutching his slit stomach. He isn't dying just yet, but he already knows that this is the end of him.

_"Thought I would forget, but I,  
I remember!  
Cause I remember,  
I remember,  
I remember,  
I REMEMBER!_

If it were possible, Dawn just looks more ferocious. Gabriel's breathing quickened as Dawn put the razor right in-between his eyes and her body leaning back to survey his trembling form. Enjoying-every-last-minute of it.

"_Makes me that much stronger,  
Makes me work a little bit harder,  
It makes me that much wiser,  
So thanks for making me a fighter,  
Made me learn a little bit faster,  
Made my skin a little bit thicker,  
Makes me that much smarter…_

She bares her teeth, her pupils shrink until it's hard to notice them, and then raises her knew friend above her head. "_So thanks for making me a—" _She doesn't finish the sentence, there's no time for Gabriel to hear it. The blade grazes over his neck splitting the flesh and muscles into two. His head tilts back, his throat now exposed squirts blood as his mouth gargles the same substance. Droplets of red are dotting the wall and Dawn's face and clothes. Gabriel's eyes roll to the back of his head just as soon as the gargling stops.

Gabriel Potter is now dead. Former foster father, and bar owner is dead. And so is Dawn Hastings. In her empty shell is someone new, someone that once lurked in the shadows of her mind and now took the place of the soul that lived inside the young adult's body. The only thing keeping her sane.

* * *

**A/N: Ooooo, her first kill! Didn't see that coming did you? Anyway, I had to keep it short because I don't want to make it look like I'm rushing anything, and if I add anymore it will be too much too soon. Besides, I think that was a good ending, and I wanted a quick update. I hope the whole Fighter song wasn't cheesy. I couldn't find a right song other than that one to fit this part of the story. Not to mention this song is about Christina's abusive father which I thought was fit for the meaning of Gabriel's relationship with the girls. Anyway, wanna know what would be super cool? If y'all vote in my poll:D Oh, and…someone to be my BETA reader (sheepish smile). Thanks for the support, xoxox, love ya!**

**Xpunkiex: Thanks for the suggestion, but I have a strict "no taking ideas from fans" policy, only because I like to think of plot ideas on my own. It just shows that I don't need a crutch when it comes to making up stories. Also I've already planned what's going to happen and how it's going to end. As you may or may not have noticed, I like to drop A LOT of hints about future situations in the story. One I revealed in chapter 13 was the whole creaking of the floor and the hole. If you paid attention to scenes (don't worry if you didn't. I suspected that half my readers wouldn't notice these things) it shows that whenever Dawn walks over that area, the floor creaks. But that's the only hint that I made obvious now. Within the story more will be revealed, if not I'll make a whole Author's note chapter to explain what happened if people don't understand. **_**  
**_


	15. Ch Fifteen: Just for Tonight

**The Crow: Care for a Shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC.**

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll put the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Just for tonight

Dawn's chest rises and falls as she gasps for breath. Her body is still towering over the mess of a man sprawled over in the chair in front of her, throat slit open for the world to see. The razor is still clutched firmly in her hand refusing to let go. Her eyes are wide with hate and shock, a mixture of emotions stir within her.

Sweeney is standing in the door way leaning against the frame staring at her for the longest time. It had been too long that he's seen such a vengeful kill without remorse. This moment not only reminds him of the time he had killed Signore Pirelli, but sent shocks of arousal for Miss Dawn Hastings throughout his body. This, as he afraid to admit to, frightens him, but he walks over to her ever so coyly not showing a speck of emotion. He comes up behind her and slowly puts his hand on her shoulder, careful not to startle the woman.

Dawn's breathing calms down, but her eyes remain on the mangled form of her late foster father. After a minute, finally Dawn says, "Am I loosing my mind?"

"Yes," Sweeney replies, "but it is best to loose one's mind, than to destroy it entirely. If you let Gabriel live, he would've help destroy you, besides he deserves to be dead."

Dawn doesn't respond, just lets her grip on the razor loosen. At this Sweeney took the chance to gently retrieve his friend from his hostess's grip. The blood still drips from the end and instinctively Sweeney whips it with the sleeve of his blouse. "What do we do know?" Dawn asks, her face falls to the floor finally tearing her eyes away from the bleeding corpse.

"We clean up," Sweeney starts taking her arm so she would look at him, "and take it to a secret place and burry it."

"Are you mad? They'll find his body without a doubt. This is not the 19th century where that is over looked; they'll find the body and do a bunch of forensics shit on it to find out that I did it!" Dawn springs back into reality as the thought of what she had done finally sunk in. How is she going to get away with it? Surely someone will find out!

Dawn spins around when the wave of reality hits her, and shoves herself into an empty chair. Putting her fingers to her temple, Dawn's anxiety once again brings her back to trembling fingers and nervousness

Right away Sweeney notices this and runs to her side, kneeling down so he could catch her eyes with his. "Dawn, please calm down, it will be alright."

"Alright?" she practically yells, "how can it be alight? I just killed a man! Gabriel—my foster father! The man who raised me for 15 years! Worst of all they're going to find out and send me to federal prison. Oh my God," she sinks into the chair, "I'm going to jail for life… I'm going to get raped by 40 year old butch women who killed their husbands."

"Dawn, please, you're being irrational."

"No, no, I'm being realistic, Mr. T," Sweeney winces at that name, but Dawn ignores it, "I've watched CSI! Their going to probably find the smallest piece of evidence. There's no way we can burry the body."

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

Suddenly the remorse lifts from her chest as she looks over Gabriel's body, remembering every word he said only minutes ago. Her eyes darken for a moment before brightening up with an idea.

"Where the hell is he?" Eric bellows whilst looking out the window. Donald, Michael, and James sat behind him on the couches playing a game of poker on the small table.

"Calm down, mate, it's only been—" Donald is interrupted.

"It's only been 45 fuckin' minutes! That's how long it has been!"

"Blimey! It's been that long?" Eric rolls his eyes at his fat friend and mutters, "idiot."

"He said he is going to get her, right? He wouldn't just bail on our deal," Michael asks glancing up at the rigid man.

"Yah, Eric. He's just prolly havin' a tough time bagging the chick," James says just before he smiles at this hand.

"That better be the fucking case," Eric says, "I told that stupid bartender to be here by 2 am to bring Dawn. If he's not here in 15 minutes—"

"Eric?" comes another voice. Eric turns to look to see the hunchback at the door way, "what is it Cybil?"

"Master Felix grows weary of waiting. Where is this Gabriel?" Cybil asks. At that Eric sighs in frustration and ignores the question as he slumps against window.

"Eric?" The hunchback inquires once again, "is he late?"

"Very," Eric says through his teeth. Suddenly Michael stands up, "I'll go get him then; wouldn't want to get Felix all riled up." No one bothers to stop him as he tosses his cards on the table and walks out of the room. James snatches his cards and looks at them, "three 4's. That bastard just didn't want to loose."

"I can't believe I hadn't thought of this earlier," Sweeney says as he and his hostess clean up the blood stains in the room; before that the two carried the dead body of Gabriel Potter into a closet for the time being.

"I can't believe you didn't think about it either," Dawn says to him while she is bent over the carpet scrubbing furiously. "You did the exact same thing 150 years ago. The best part of this plan is that no one would think of it, and with Gabriel gone, they'd think I just altered the menu!"

"Your sudden enthusiasm confuses me," Sweeney nearly laughs, "are we done here?"

Dawn stands up and examines the room. It looks exactly the same from before she painted it red on Gabriel's expense. "Yeah, I think so."

They pack their cleaning things and put it back into the kitchen. "What are we going to do about our little problem in the closet? We can't just leave him there, he'll stink up the place!"

"The cellar," Sweeney says, "downstairs."

Dawn cocks her head to the side, "we don't have a cellar or a downstairs."

Insisting that there is a door somewhere here, he leads Dawn to a solid cement wall at the back of the complex. Dawn turns her head to him and raises an eyebrow.

"I see a wall. A wall that's been there since I moved in here."

"No, no, there was a door here and a flight of stairs," Sweeney says as he begins to examine the wall further to see if he could find away to get through it. "There should be the large oven inside and a meat grinder—They were Mrs. Lovett's."

Shrugging, Dawn helps him look for anything that may hint that there is a way to open the wall up. "Nothing," Dawn says after the two stand up from searching.

"It doesn't even look that thick. The person who made this wall was obviously in a hurry to cover it up," Dawn adds. Not long after that a light bulb lights over her head, "be right back." Before Sweeney could ask where she is going, his hostess is already out the door.

Not long after that Dawn comes back in dragging a large jackhammer behind her, of course, Sweeney didn't recognize that as anything he knew.

"What is that?"

"It's Gabriel's jackhammer," Dawn replies heaving the large thing in front of her with a sweat. "Okay," she says breathlessly, "stand back."

Sweeney did what he is told, afraid that thing is going to explode, or do anything remotely destructive. Dawn plugs in the machine, and lifts it up with great difficulty and leans the tip against the wall.

"Here goes nothing," she mutters as she flicks the switch. Instantly the machine came alive drilling into the cement violently. By the time it actually made a hole in wall, Dawn looses her balance and falls off to the side taking the jackhammer with her. Shaking due to the aggressive vibration, Dawn finally switches the machine off.

"Bloody hell," She hears Sweeney say. Dawn rolls her eyes and gets up, shaken up by using it and ears ringing from the loud noise it gave. Some of the pictures hanging on the wall had fallen off, but other than that nothing is harmed.

Dawn brushes herself off and looks at the hole she made. Inside she could see a old white wooden door, the paint peeling off showing the molded wood. "Wow, there really is another room behind here," Dawn peers into the hole.

Sweeney comes to her side, "watch out," and starts to pull at the thin wall causing it to break off piece by piece. Dawn starts to help, and the two began to make the hole much larger, just enough for them to fit through. Sweeney crawls in and opens the door, behind it is a dark staircase leading down to what Dawn guesses to be the cellar Mr. Todd was talking about.

It's pitch black, but Sweeney has no problem standing on his feet as he walks down the stairs slowly letting the darkness indulge him. Moments later he came back requesting that Dawn go fetch Gabriel's body. It took a while for the woman to drag the man alone over to the cellar door, but she manages.

Eventually Sweeney took the body down next to the meat grinder. The entire place stank a vile odor, but he didn't seem to notice or mind. When he came up Dawn is holding onto her nose, so he shut the door.

"That cellar smells like rotting corpses buried in a variety of feces," she says.

"Yes, well, there is a sewer just underneath."

After cleaning up the mess in the closet from Gabriel's corpse, the two decide that they can't leave a hole in the wall for everyone to see. Dawn leaves to her apartment upstairs and gets a large painting in a frame about 1 meter in width, and 2 in length, a perfect fit to hide the large hole. The painting is a portrait of a woman that Dawn doesn't exactly know of, but she says that it was given to her when she left the orphanage. The woman had short black hair styled in 1920s bob that reached to her chin, and bangs that just stopped above her perfect drawn-on (you could tell) eyebrows. Her dark-brown-almost-black eyes are rimmed with black eyeliner and mascara and white and brown eye shadow. She is clad in a dark gray flapper dress with white pearl necklace that is so long it reaches to her hips. Her lips are bright red and her skin is pale as snow; the woman also has an air of superiority about her. In the background you can see shelves of beauty products and a barber's pole farthest from her to the right. She is sitting elegantly with her legs crossed, her arm that is covered in long black gloves rested it's elbow on her knee. And finally entwined in her fingers is cigarette on the end of a cigarette pipe.

"You have no idea who she is?" Sweeney asks as they both heave up the portrait onto the nail against the cement wall.

"Not a clue. They just gave me the portrait when me and Abigail left. I was too young to ask questions, and then after I stored it away, I kind of forgotten about it until now."

"Is this one of the styles your era has gone through?" he asks gesturing to her flapper dress and hairstyle.

"Er, no. If anything my grandmother's mother went through that era. If I could guess this painting was made between the 1920s, and the 1930s."

They go back to the bar, but don't head up to the apartment. Instead they sit at a table and enjoy a class of ale and a little chit chat. Surprisingly it has nothing to do about their situation or the mannerisms of the 21st century. Dawn talks about her childhood memories, while Sweeney does the same. It's the only conversation they ever had that they actually enjoy.

"We best go to bed," Sweeney says as he drowns his last bit of ale.

"C'mon! Can't we stay up!" Dawn begs feeling like a child.

Sweeney looks at her long and hard. They did have an eventful night, and he could only imagine that his hostess is dead tired, but the woman insists on staying up. There is a long silence as the two just stare at each other. For a moment Dawn forgets what she wants.

(This song is called _Just For Tonight_ by Manna Ft. Ville Valo of HIM)

_"Too late, won't stop,  
Tonight I want to go deeper.  
Tomorrow takes it all away.  
Time's running out,  
The night is only a shell.  
Soon morning comes and breaks the spell,  
To the yesterday, to a dream._

Dawn finishes singing that verse, and just as she is going to start the next Sweeney joins in, making the solo a duet.

_"Just for tonight, we'll keep on dancing.  
And the city won't tell a soul,  
Just for tonight, the lights are shining.  
And our secret stays untold…_

They both stand up with Sweeney holding Dawn's hand guiding her over to the large window that over looks the deserted streets, save for the rats and the stray cats.

_"These streets are mine,  
Tonight I'll keep on walking.  
Won't stop as long as the city sleeps.  
Don't look back once,  
Or you might turn around…_

The guest and hostess turn to look each other. The former takes the latter's other hand in his and they both look directly at each other.

_"Tonight I'll give myself to you,  
And our secret stays untold._

They guide each other out the door and onto the cobble stone streets. The street lights barely illuminate their paths as guest and hostess entwine their fingers and embrace each other in a slow waltz.

_"Just for tonight, we'll keep on dancing,  
And the city won't tell a soul.  
Just for tonight, the lights are shining,  
And our secret stays untold.  
Just for tonight, we'll keep on dancing,  
And the city won't tell a soul.  
Just for tonight, the lights are shining,  
And our secret stays untold._

They stop dancing just in the middle of corner of Fleet Street and Levingston Drive, not untangling themselves from each other. Just standing in that one spot, with Todd's hand on her waist, Dawn's hand on his shoulder, and their other two hands linked together raised in a possession at shoulder-level.

_"They can't see us now,"_ Dawn whispers.  
_"They can't see us now,"_ Sweeney repeats.  
_"They won't catch us now,"_ Dawn's head begins to tilt to the side feeling a bit of fatigue.  
_"They can't see us now,"_ Sweeney's breath begins to quicken.  
_"They can't see us now."  
"They can't see us now…"  
"They won't catch us now…"  
"They can't see us now—"_

Their breathing is slowly coming out from their mouths. Both bosoms are pressed against each other heaving up and down to the same rhythm of their breathing. Never tearing their eyes away from each other both noses seem to get more closer in touching one another. Suddenly they hear footsteps in the distance.

And just like that, all of a sudden they are separated from each other standing in the middle of the bar. Quickly shaking off their surprise at a customer this late at night, Dawn goes behind the bar with Sweeney following her. The man walks in looking around at the empty bar, but a look of curiosity comes to his face as he spots Dawn and Sweeney behind the bar.

"Hello," Dawn greets sheepishly.

" 'Ello," the man says, "Sorry to come in so late, but I am wondering if Gabriel Potter is home? I'm in need to talk to him."

Dawn glances over at Sweeney trying to hide her worry, "Alright. What's your name, sir?"

"Michael," the man answers as he takes a seat at the bar.

"Right, well…well I'll just go fetch him," Dawn goes to the back room only to pace back and forth. Sweeney, however, knew exactly how to get rid of this little problem.

"Not t' seem rude or anything, but what's your name?" Michael asks Sweeney.

"My name is Todd, sir. Now, while you wait, would you like a drop of ale, or anything to your liking?"

"Nah, it's alright. I just wait 'ere."

Sweeney nods in mock understanding. Then he fakes an expression as if he had an idea.

"Michael if it isn't so bold of me to say, but you don't seem like you're at your best today."

"What d'ya mean?" Michael asks attempting to spruce himself up.

"Well, if you don't mind me saying, you look like you haven't been treating yourself fairly. Tell me, Michael, have you been wooing any young ladies?"

"Why, yes I have Todd," he says as if he is proud, but it soon drowns from his face.

"None successful?"

He nods shamefully, "what d'you suggest I do then?

"Hmm. Where to start first?" Sweeney thought for a moment, then a smile lit up on his pale face. "How 'bout a shave?"

* * *

**A/N: I don't really like this chapter. It's kind of awkward and rushed, but I just wanted to get this part out of the way so I can move on. Anyway, updates will be a bit slow since I'm back in school and I've been getting a bunch of assignments because of mid-term report cards…God, I cannot wait until I get out of school and just work a full time job, so I don't have to take any shit home. Then I might actually have time to write! Sorry, little rant, haha. Thanks for the support, xoxox, love ya!**

**Xpunkiex: Don't feel stupid, lol. Some authors on fanfiction actually do ask their readers for ideas. I'm just not one of them. And I'll read your new series as soon as I'm not swamped with schoolwork. **

**Andaere: He technically has DNA, but since DNA profiles only been recorded since…I think the 90s, his DNA doesn't have a profile because he is supposed to be dead for 150 years. And even when they discovered DNA in the 1950s, they didn't know how to use it back then either. So Sweeney does have DNA, it's just not programmed in government files.**


	16. Ch Sixteen: Only nightmares

**The Crow: Care for a Shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll put the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.**

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Only nightmares

It's been a week since Michael had gone off to the Wing in search of Gabriel, and he hasn't returned either. Eric and Felix grow impatient, but no one dares to go there to investigate; not just yet. Something is going on in that pub down at Fleet Street, and Felix will find out what, no matter how many people he sacrifices.

Cybil tells Eric that Felix wishes to see him, and the two make their way over to the third floor and spot giant double doors. The hunch back humbly knocks on the wood and after a long minute a commanding "enter" sounds through the door.

Inside the walls are decorated in dark purple wallpaper with black Victorian designs on them. The floor is cherry wood and a large maroon rug lays in the centre of the room with a big cherry wood desk on top. Behind the desk is a massive leather arm chair, and behind that a large panel window complete with a balcony looking over a much nicer view of London, England. The walls are decorated in large painted portraits of people with similar attributes, except for one space that is left empty and untouched.

The two men aren't paying any attention to the room décor however, their eyes are more set on the large leather chair in front of them.

"I grow weary, Eric," the voice says, seemingly coming out of no where. Cybil scuttles over to a lone wall table and pours a wine class with Rosé wine, and brings it over behind the chair. A pale masculine hand gently takes the glass, its pointed white finger nails tapping against it as if in thought.

Eric doesn't say anything, neither does Cybil.

"I've waited over 2 weeks and you have not brought her here. What's taking so long?"

"My lord, the bartender was supposed to bring her here a week ago, but never arrived. Michael went down the bar, but he hasn't arrived since then."

"And no one thought to go back down there?" Felix grip on the glass tightened.

Eric clenched his teeth, "in all respects, Felix, but your men are pussies."

At that Felix chuckled, "including you, Eric? It's Friday today, if you do not get me Hastings before Monday, your genitals will be on a silver platter."

Eric swallowed, "Yes, sir."

And with that he left the room.

It's been a week since Dawn killed Gabriel, and Sweeney slaughtered Michael. Dawn smacked Sweeney over the head with the broom because of that, saying that he could've known something about Gabriel and Abigail. Regardless, they lived their week with enthusiasm. The day after the murder, Dawn went out to buy wallpaper and filled the entire room with the hole in the wall, putting the portrait over it, so in the end it looked like a normal room. Tuesday and Wednesday Murderer and Murderess spent the days redecorating the pub into a Victorian aristocrat theme bar and club, as well as changed the menu, and the title. It was no longer _Gabriel's Wing_, but called _Dusk 'Till Dawn_. For the rest of Wednesday and Thursday Sweeney made a gazebo for the restaurant area, and the inside was dedicated to the bar and dancing (Dawn did the DJing). In the back, in what used to be Gabriel's living room was Sweeney's personal Barbary, complete with a fancy chair Dawn Managed to pawn off of someone.

By the end of following Friday -- their opening -- Sweeney killed 7 men and took them into the cellar, where Dawn put Gabriel's giant freezer (hooking up the extension chords underneath the floor so no one would notice was hell) so Todd could dump the bodies in there (he called it the Ice Box) until Dawn got them. With the bodies she not only made meat pies, but meatballs, sausages, sloppy Joes, and hamburger meat. Even when the customer asked for a vegetarian meal, she still added some meat from one of Sweeney's -- and some times hers -- victims.

They closed up that night after dawn (no pun intended) and went up to the apartment to retire for the day. Dawn insisted that Sweeney sleep on Abigail's bed, not on the couch, but the man also insisted that he will not, ever, sleep in a pink bed. So Dawn now sleeps in Abigail's, and Sweeney in Dawn's.

Todd had well ago finished Mrs. Lovett's diary (or stopped reading overall, Dawn doesn't really know), and thinking that she might take a crack at it, she walks over to the trunk and peers inside in search of that diary. Instead, she finds another one, the one she found weeks before when the trunk was first open.

_Elizabeth's Diary._

She doesn't say anything to Sweeney, as he was too busy shaving the stash that was appearing under his nose. Dawn took the book and crawled onto Abigail's bed, hugged her pillow and opened it up to the first page.

_July 23rd, 1858_

_Dear Diary:_

_I've fled finally away from the workhouse and was able to take this empty journal from a store in the market. I had no where to stay, and being only 13 years old, I know that the streets of London isn't a safe place to be. My twin brother was taken away from the workhouse a long whiles ago, by an Italian barber. I do not remember his name, but if I heard it, or saw it, I would know. If I cannot find my brother and his owner, I will have to hope that someone would take me in as their ward. However, I am well aware that I'm not the most appealing young girl to take in._

_I passed by a half-mad woman more than once, and every time I did she would scream "You, my dear, haven't I seen you before?" or "You're a splitting image of your mother, you are!" I do not know what that means, if she knew my birth mother, or if she had seen me before when I was younger. I do have to admit that we share the same mangled hair, as well as colour. You could surely tell that she once had beautiful locks of wheat coloured hair. By her features, if you looked close, she was once beautiful and happy. What ever happened to her I do not know, but I can tell you, Diary, that I will always see her for the rest of mine, or her life._

_I came by a merely deserted pie shop called Mrs. Lovett's. I went inside and the woman who works there jumped on me like a predator on its pray. She offered me pie and gin (which I took gratefully), when I told her I didn't have any money to pay for it, she told me I could work it off and stay with her. You can only imagine my delight._

_My room isn't big, but it is perfect, and a dozen times better than the sling-hammock I slept in, in the workhouse with all the other children. Mrs. Lovett is like a mother I never had. She said that she loved the idea of me writing a journal, and gave me a quill and ink bottle to start it off. She says that she has her own diary as well, but she keeps it locked up in her chambers. _

_Tomorrow is my first day at work in Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Shop, and I cannot wait. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Elizabeth_

Dawn kept on reading the diary of Elizabeth, completely entranced by this young girl of 13 working at Mrs. Lovett's shop. Dawn starts to wonder if Sweeney knew of a Elizabeth when he was there. She made a mental note to ask him, but as soon as she got into the October entries in the diary, Dawn's eyes start to get heavy with every sentence.

_October 13th, 1858_

_Dear Diary:_

_When I came home this afternoon, Mrs. Lovett was descending from the stairs from the upstairs apartment that was said to be haunted. She always told me to stay away from there, and don't go wondering up there. I never did, I was terrified. I asked her why she was up there, but she didn't answer but marched into the shop. I followed her and repeated the question, but she then told me to pack my things_…

Dawn's eyes finally drift shut, and darkness engulfed her head. The leather bound book fell from her fingers and landed on the floor.

_"C'mon, Lizzie, dear," Elizabeth looks up at the older woman. Her small bag with her limited belongings stuffed inside, is clutched in her small hands. "You are well enough to go out on your own!"_

_"I've only been here for nearly 3 months, Ma'am! And I'm still only 13."_

_"Yes, and a ripe age for a young lass as yourself to be on your own. Besides, Lizzie, isn't your birthday coming up? By words, you'll be 14!"_

_"But where will I stay?" Elizabeth is being pushed by Mrs. Lovett out the door, and finally stops at the cobble stone street. _

_"I'm sure you'll find a place, dear. This is your chance to find your brother!"_

_"How? I haven't the faintest idea where this barber works!"_

_"You'll find him, don't you worry!" Without so much of a goodbye, Mrs. Lovett closes the door on the poor girl. Elizabeth sighs and turns around to behold the world she's forced into once again. _

_The people walking passed her doesn't acknowledge her existence. Little Elizabeth pulls her bag along the road and starts to walk around heading towards the market place. She had enough money to buy food to last her for about 2 weeks, if she stretched it, but the only issue that she has is where she would stay. Eventually she gets to the market place, and is met by enormous crowds of people. _

_Elizabeth stops walking and stands in front of a cart with large letters that spelt: Pirelli, Barber of Kings. Immediately something clicked in the young teen's mind. A bright smile spread across her face and she skipped over to the large cart and knocked on the door. There was loud yelling that sounded like it was in a different language, a few hitting noses, and finally the door opened. A head popped through blue curtains, a boy about her age. His hair was white as snow, and his skin was equally as white. Scars across his cheeks, and dirt around his nose and forehead contrasted with his complexion. _

_"Can I help you, miss?"_

_Elizabeth looks up at boy and blinks. "Toby?"_

_The boy looks back at her with a look of shock, "how do you—" he cuts himself off, "Lizzie?" A smile appears on his lips, but it disappears as he looks over his shoulder into the cart, and then back to her._

_"How did you get here?"_

_"I escaped," Elizabeth smiles back, "about 3 months back. I've been staying with someone, until now. She kicked me out."_

_"Why?"_

_"I do not know! By the way, when did you sprout blond hair?" She raises an eyebrow._

_"It's a wig, actually," he smiles sheepishly, "Well, I would invite you to stay with me, but I don't know if the Signore would allow it."_

_"How is your owner, by the way?"_

_"Not exactly the finest, but it's better than the workhouse."_

_"TOBY!" Someone yells from in the cart, and Toby jumps. "Who are you talking to, you stupid boy?"_

_Behind Toby, the curtain further opens to reveal what Elizabeth assumed to be Signore Pirelli. To the 13 year old, Pirelli was one of the finest looking men she ever seen. Which isn't saying much since all the men she ever saw were within the workhouse were old and gray._

_"Who is this little girl?" Signore asks peering down at Elizabeth with distaste._

_"Signore, this is my sister, Elizabeth. We're twins, we are; grew up at the workhouse together. She has no where to stay…"_

_"And how does this concern me, boy?"_

_"Well, sir, I was wondering if she could stay with us. Only for a little while…"_

_"Please, sir, you wont even notice I'm there," Elizabeth pleaded._

_Slowly, a smile spread on Signor's lips at first, it was welcoming, "very well, little girl, you may stay with us until you find another owner."_

_Elizabeth's eyes widened with happiness, "thank you, sir! I'm forever in your dept."_

_"Come in, come in," Pirelli's smile began to get cynical and crooked as he escorted Lizzie inside._

Sweeney washed the lather off his face, and cleaned his razor. His hostess, Dawn, fell asleep a long while ago and was sound asleep. He walks over to the bed and picks up the book she was reading, and read the inside of the cover. Elizabeth's Diary.

That name certainly struck bells in his head, he might've read it whilst reading Lovett's diary. If she did mention an Elizabeth, she wasn't important. Sweeney stopped reading Lovett's diary once it got to the October of 1958, when he arrived. He didn't want to be reminded of his last time on earth completely alive, and not just a walking corpse, or ghost of some kind. Something itched in Todd though, that he had to seek Elizabeth's name in Lovett's diary. He walked over to the trunk to retrieve the diary, but something stopped him.

Dawn was moaning. Sweeney turned around and saw her tossing around and twitching. He caught little words like "no" or "please stop". Sounds of struggle erupted from her throat and she started to twitch and thrash around in the bed more violently. Sweeney jogged over to the pink bed and bent down next to her.

Her legs were tightly pressed together, and she moved her hips widely. "Miss Hastings," Sweeney whispered stroking her forehead, but she continued to struggle.

"Dawn," he says firmly.

"No, no, stop!" Tears began to crawl from under her eyelids. Sweeney sat on the bed and lightly tapped her cheeks in attempts to wake her up.

"Dawn, wake up," he says louder.

"NO STOP! TOBY! HELP!"

Sweeney froze and looked down at the struggling girl in wonder. Toby? She can't be talking about that mongrel of a boy that ended his life.

"NO!! STOP!" Sweeney quickly snapped out of it, and grabbed the woman's chin and shook her shoulder. She was kicking around, and Todd had to hold down her legs to prevent her from kicking him. "DAWN WAKE UP!"

There was a large gasp and Dawn's eyes shot open. Beads of sweat rolled down from her brow. Her pupils were small and her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she looked straight at the ceiling.

"Dawn, Dawn, look at me," Sweeney said softly.

The hostess averted her eyes at him and immediately calmed down, but her breathing was still heavy and her pupils small.

"Calm down, luv, it was only a dream."

Dawn swallowed, still looking up at him, "I've never have dreams, only nightmares."

Sweeney was silent for a moment as he wiped the sweat from her forehead. "C'mon, you should go back to sleep. It is still dark, and the day is nearly ahead," he planted a soft kiss on her forehead and turned off the side lamp. He got up to go to Dawn's former bed when he felt a hand grip his arm.

"No," Sweeney looked down at the woman. The only light that reflected off of her ivory skin was the pale moonlight shining from the large panel window. "Stay with me?"

The barber was hesitant as he consider this. Eventually, he gave in and crawled into the bed with her. Dawn moved a bit over allowing Sweeney to lay his head on one of the pillows. As soon as he made himself comfortable, Dawn crawled closer to his body, and laid her head next to his. Sweeney lifted his chin and laid it on top of her head, and wrapped his arm around her torso.

* * *

**A/N: Awww, I like that ending. Too cute. Well, sorry again for late updates, but school is anal. They're giving me a freakin' project every goddamn week. I hate school -- with an undying passion. Whoever invented it should be shot and eaten by cannibals. Anyway, thanks for the reviews, my lovely readers. Xoxox. **

**Ps. Yes, Pirelli did what you think he did. **

**DarthKyuubi: I make a point in not letting the mission Sweeney is set to do be obvious. But it is somewhat revealed in the summery, and I did mention it in early chapters. If you aren't aware, Sweeney's mission is to meet his daughter. He didn't get that fulfillment when he was alive, that's why at the end of the summery it says, "…the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened." (I added that end part). So since Sweeney didn't get a chance to meet his daughter, he's come back to meet his descendant. Why now? It'll reveal itself in the story. As for the make up, I'm not sure if I'll make it a big part of this story. It'll be mentioned, the least if not nothing, in my series. I haven't entirely decided on that.**

**Lita: I would still what to see that picture you made -. As for the whole Michael shaving thing, Barbers don't just shave one's face clean, they can do styles like people today. So when Sweeney meant a shave, he didn't necessarily meant clean shaven. Barbers do other things too. And there's a lot of guys who don't know how to trim their beard in a certain way, because it's complicated, they go to a Barber. That and I just wanted to put Sweeney's famous line on here some how, haha.**


	17. Ch Seventeen: Tear You Apart

* * *

The Crow: Care for a Shave

**The Crow: Care for a Shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll put the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: Tear you Apart

Saturday was a busy day, just like every weekend. When Dawn woke up that morning, Sweeney wasn't next to her. So she quickly showered, put on a black t shirt, a jean mini skirt and black tights underneath. Just as she was combing her hair the door opened and Sweeney stepped in.

"Where'd you go?" she asks him, still combing her mane of hair.

"I went down to the liquor store to get that shipment of rum you ordered."

Dawn made an o shape with her mouth. Sweeney tossed his leather jacket onto the sofa and looked out of the panel window.

"AH!" Dawn shrieked.

Immediately Sweeney turned on his heel, "What? What's wrong?"

"This can't be happening," he hears her mutter. Her face was nearly pressed against the mirror.

"What can't be happening?"

"I found a white hair," she turned around with a pout holding a single strand of silver-white hair.

Sweeney rolled his eyes, "C'mon, people are expecting the bar to be open by now!"

"I refuse to go out there with this strand of evil coming from my hairline!"

Again, the barber rolled his eyes, "get over yourself woman, and come down stairs." Turning, Sweeney left and closed the door behind him. Dawn didn't follow, instead stood where she was sulking. She took out a pair of scissors and snipped the evilness.

They day was uneventful, except around 5 pm when people started to come in for dinner. The door swung open ringing the bell, but it was unheard since the music was in higher volume, and a couple of people were dancing on the dance floor. The two people that walked in reached the bar counter and sat on stools.

Dawn pulled away from washing a cup and turned towards them, "Chief Brown? Kevin? What are you two doing here?"

It was hard to hear over the music, but the chief and the forensic specialist heard her. "We came here to speak with you, Miss Hastings. In regards to your sister's murderer," Brown says over the music, "Could we speak in a quieter place?"

Dawn nodded and led them outside next to the staircase, "what is it?"

Kevin couldn't answer, since he was so entranced by her eyes, which were beautiful, but that wasn't the reason. Her pupils were perfectly wide and nearly took over her blue irises.

"Miss Hastings, I would like to speak with your boyfriend, as well," Brown started.

"Why?" Dawn's muscles tightened, and it wasn't because of the pop of E she did hours ago.

"We have reason to believe that he might have information on your sister's murder. He is one of our leading suspects at this moment."

Dawn's eyebrow rose, "leading suspect? He doesn't know anything! And he wouldn't do that..."

"Are you sure about that, Miss Hastings?" Brown held up a plastic bag with a single black hair.

"Are _you _sure its his?"

"Miss Hastings, this hair did not show a DNA profile. Mr. Taylor here had confirmed that it isn't yours, and has met Mr. Smith, your boyfriend. If that's even his real name."

The woman shot Kevin a glance, who shied away.

"Is your boyfriend here, Dawn?" the Chief asks.

She shook her head, "no, he went to…a funeral."

"Funeral?"

Dawn nodded, "his ex-wife died; poisoned herself; she lived in America."

"Well, my condolences. If he comes back, please call us, we wish to speak with him. And, Miss Hastings, if you find or know any information please tell us."

Dawn nodded again, not intending to do so.

Brown turned around and headed for a black car, however Kevin stayed, giving Dawn one last searching look and turned to follow his boss.

Once they sped off around the corner, something clicked in Dawn's mind. The box of matches she found that night, she forgot about them! She climbed up the stairs, unlocked the door and went to retrieve the jacket she wore that day and fished into the pocket.

There it was, the pink box of matches with that nude pin-up woman on the front and the cursive writing says: _The Grotesque Burlesque_. She shoved it into her pocket and went back to the bar, deciding that she was going to tell Sweeney about it after closing hour.

It has been a quiet afternoon for the men that resided inside Felix's abode. James, Donald, and a new comrade Jamie (to replace Michael) sat at the bar in the basement having a glass of whiskey. The three men as well as Eric are going to head down to one of Felix's most popular underground strip clubs: _The Grotesque Burlesque_.

Eric wasn't with them, and they took full advantage of that.

"What's with Eric and this Dawn chick?" Jamie, the new kid asked.

"Well that's a long story, mate," Donald laughs a bit, smacking the scrawny boy on the shoulder.

"Why? What happened?" Jamie asked once again.

"Well," James took it from there, "Eric had a bit of a crush on the wench back in high school, he did."

"What happened?"

Donald laughed as he took a sip from his whiskey; Jamie sent him a curious glance and then back at James, who as well had a amused smile on.

"Well, the whelp finally got the balls to ask her out…"

(This song is called _Tear You Apart_ by She Wants Revenge.)

(The parts that are in italics, is James singing, the parts in bold is like a flash back to what happened. The parts that are bolded and in italics, is Eric singing within the flash back.)

_"Got a big plan, this mindset maybe its right,  
At the right place and right time, maybe tonight,  
And the whisper or handshake sending a sign,  
Wanna make out and kiss hard, wait never mind._

**A younger Eric, about 17 years old stands in front of a bar smoking a cigarette. He's fidgeting with his hands and his legs, and his pupils were wide, but he isn't high. His fingers are trembling as he puts out the cigarette butt and walks inside to wait further for his date. **

_"Late night, and passing, mention it flipped her,  
Best friend, who knows saying maybe it slipped,  
But the slip turns to terror and a crush to light  
When she walked in, he throws up, believe its the fright. _

**The door swings open and a young 16 or 17 year old girl walks in wearing tight leather pants, black pumps and a leather jacket. Her massive curls of hair falls to her waist, and her lips a smacking red. Eric's breath catches in his throat as he runs to the men's bathroom to empty the contents in his stomach from sheer nervousness. Of course, young Dawn doesn't notice this. Eric cleans his mouth, and walks out to meet his date. **

_"Its cute in a way, till you cannot speak,  
And you leave to have a cigarette, your knees get weak.  
An escape is just a nod and a casual wave,  
Obsessed about it, heavy for the next two days…_

**The day is near to over and the couple goes outside to have a smoke, Eric's hand trembling. Dawn looks down at her watch and says something about her foster father and how she should go, he nods, and they both share a hug. They wave at each other and take their leave. Eric retreats home and sits on his bed, fingers still trembling, running them through his lock of dark brown curls. **

_"It's only just a crush, it'll go away,  
It's just like all the others it'll go away.  
Or maybe this is danger and you just don't know,  
You pray it all away but it continues to grow._

**Eric lays on his bed tossing, turning and wiping the sweat from his brow. His muscle are tense, and his groin was throbbing. Eric almost reaches down into his pants but his eye catches the sight of the brown cross over his bed, and immediately stops. He needs to control himself… He leans his body against the full length mirror and stares into his reflection's eyes. **

_"I want to hold you close,  
Skin pressed against me tight,  
Lie still, and close your eyes girl,  
So lovely, it feels so right_

I want to hold you close,  
Soft breasts, beating heart.  
As I whisper in your ear…

I want to fucking tear you apart…

**After the weekend had passed, that Monday Eric walked towards Dawn's locker, and saw her there wearing the school's uniform; white blouse, black and white plaid skirt, knee-high stockings, and dress shoes. He needs to control himself… **

_"Then he walked up and told her, thinking that he'd passed.  
And they talked and looked away a lot, doing the dance.  
Her hand brushed up against his, she left it there,  
Told him how she felt and then they locked in a stare._

**That evening they went out again and met in the park. Eric was no longer trembling and stumbling over his words. **

_"They took a step back, thought about it, what should they do,  
Cause there's always repercussions when you're dating in school.  
But their lips met, and reservations started to pass,  
Whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last._

**Sitting on his bed, Eric ran his paling hands over his face, and trembling fingers through his hair. The brown cross glaring back at him as he shifted and tugged at his pants, mainly near the crotch. Months have passed since him and Dawn hooked up, and things were going great…except when he got home. He needed to control himself… **

_"Either way he wanted her and this was bad.  
He wanted to do things to her it was making him crazy,  
Now a little crush turned into a like,  
And now he wants to grab her by the hair and tell her… _

**Alone in the girls' change room, Dawn was taking off her gym clothes to change into uniform. It was the end of the day and the school was near to empty. The door burst open and the 17 yr old yelped; turning around she saw Eric and calmed down for a mere second before she saw the fire in his eyes. Before she could do anything he grabbed her by the hair and whispers into her ear:**

_**"I want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight,"**_** Dawn was about to scream, but he covered her mouth with his free hand and began to pin her down on the bench with his knee.**_** "Lie still, and close your eyes girl, so lovely, it feels so right."**_

**It wasn't long for Eric to tear off her shirt revealing her lacey white bra. He had Dawn pinned with his legs and his weight on top of her, one hand cover her mouth the other traveling down her neck and over her breasts. She tried effortlessly to push him off with her free arms but he was just too strong. He started to lift up her skirt and unzip his uniform pants; she bit down on his fingers but that only made him come up to her face and crash his lips onto hers, holding her arms above her head, the other on her waist. **

_**"I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart," **_**he leans his lips next to her ear listening to her catching her breath and says, **_**"I want to fucking tear you apart."**_

"Is that why he was put into juvi?" Jamie inquired, "because he rapped Hastings?"

"Attempted, more like it. Poor soul never got to it," Donald replied, downing the last bit of whiskey, "Coach came in before he did any real damage, and sent him to juvi for the rest of his senior year. After that, his mum sent him to his uncle's house in Whales where he was under house arrest, and had a couple of years probation."

"So how did he join Felix's crew?"

"Felix wants the same thing I want," came the voice of Eric who heard well enough to know that they were talking about him, "he wants Dawn."

"But why?" Jamie asked, startled to know that the man they were just talking about was standing behind them.

Eric shrugs, "I don't know. He hired me to lure her to him, because I'm the only one he knows, that knows Dawn the best."

"Because you once loved her?"

Eric's eyes flashed as he glared at the new comer, "No, because I was obsessed with her."

Donald and James chuckled under their breath, "_Was_? That's the understatement of the year mate!"

Eric sent a evil glance at Donald, who shrunk back.

At that moment the door opened and Cybil popped his enormous head in, "Felix is waiting for you boys in the limo. He's growing impatient; you better not be hesitant."

The 4 boys left their cups, empty or half full, on the counter of the bar and left.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I know it's short, but I didn't want to stretch it on more than it needs to be. So yeah, school's been easing up a bit, and I got a on my essay on the Aging and the Elderly in Finland D, which I'm excited for, because I actually worked hard on it. I know it's probably the most boring topic ever, but she gave it to me and I love Finland. Anyway, so this chapter is mainly dedicated to Dawn's relationship with Eric, which I should've gotten outta the way a long time ago, but here it is! Lmao, and I'm loving how you guys are asking questions that I cannot answer due to the fact that it'll ruin the whole story, haha. Love you, xoxox. **

**Xpunkiex: Good question, but you're going to have to keep on reading to find it out ;) **

**Fair Trade Organic: D HECK YES! Lol, that made my day that you offered, if you're still up for being my BETA reader. That'd be super awesome, and I'll do almost any favor you want from me.**

**Affectionate-Sinner: Again, I cannot tell you. It will be revealed in the story! Mwuahahaha. **


	18. Ch Eighteen: Dreaming

**The Crow: Care for a Shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll put the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

* * *

Chapter Eighteen: Dreaming

Sweeney had finished his last client today and told Dawn – who seemed more anxious than she did this morning – he was going to be up in the apartment. He had the name Elizabeth rolling around in his head all day and he made a mental note to skim through Lovett's diary to spot the name.

He closed the door and went over to the trunk to retreat Lovett's diary. Upon finding it, he walks over to the couch, plops down and starts to flip through the frail pages in search of Elizabeth's name.

As he flipped through he spotted a ser few times Lovett mentioning Elizabeth. It was small things, however, like how she arrived, came home late a couple of nights and nearly burnt down the shop. It wasn't anything big, as Sweeney expected. It wasn't until he got to the chapter he neglected to read, due to the fact that he knew what was written on it. Though curiously got the better of him when he saw Elizabeth's name scribbled down in Nellie's writing, so he began to read.

_October 13__th__, 1858_

_Dear Diary:_

_You would never believe me, but Benjamin is back! Benjamin Barker! My love, my only. I didn't recognize him at first, until I got a good look at him, you see. He doesn't have that flush in his skin anymore, and his perfect ringlets of brown hair have gotten black! The years clearly haven't been good to Mr. Barker. Or rather, Mr. Todd. _

_He changed his name sometime when he was in Australia, I imagine. His name is Sweeney Todd now, heaven knows why. Though I'm not complaining, he still is a magnificent man. I told him Lucy poisoned herself, however I didn't tell the man that she's still alive. Poor man would have a sunken heart if he found out his wife is now a half-mad woman scavenging the slums of London servicing men for a couple of pennies. _

_That brings me to the topic of Elizabeth. I had to shove her out of the shop before Mr. T saw her. Heaven forbid he spots her on the streets. I feel guilty in a way; she's only a girl after all. Lizzie is a smart girl, she'll find her brother I'm sure. Still, knowing what I put her through before this I feel that I owe something to the girl. But then again, she'll thank me in due time once she finds out who her mother is. Thank me that she didn't have to be one of the child prostitutes if I left her with her mother, or murdered when she is a babe! A few hardships as a child is good for her development. I say I did her good._

_As for Mr. T, well I will make sure that he doesn't see Elizabeth on the streets, wherever she may be. If he ever found out that Lucy bared Judge Turpin's children, I don't think Toby and Elizabeth would live to see their 13__th__ birthday. Elizabeth looks so much like her…_

Sweeney slammed the book shut and almost wished that he hadn't read that entry. He shut his eyes tightly and put one of his hands to the bridge of his nose and sighed.

_That night when Turpin called for her, _he thought as the rage build up inside of him. _He rapped her, and she carried his children…his spawn in her womb! Lucy's womb! Oh my Lucy…_

He clutched on the book tighter and unwillingly flashes of the memories that dwelled inside the diary flashed before him. Lovett tearing the twins from a crazed Lucy and selling them off to a children's workhouse. Sending Lucy off to the streets, and then when Elizabeth came. He saw her. Sweeney saw her, and it was true what Nellie said in her diary, Elizabeth looked so much like Lucy. But Toby… Toby was supposed to be her twin yet he looked nothing like her. However as Todd thought about it, thought about it hard, he saw why he didn't like the boy all too well back then. If he could imagine, the boy looked like the judge himself.

In the end, Sweeney killed the judge, and the whelp of him killed Sweeney. The irony was almost comical. Almost.

It's the end of a day's work. _Dusk 'Till Dawn's _doors and windows were locked and shut. Dawn was in the cellar packing the grounded human meat in plastic bags and into the large freezer. Even though this freezer was big enough to hold 4 bodies, it was getting full near to the rim with frozen meat. _I guess we have to get another one. _

She washed her bloodied hands with a dirty old towel and ascended up the stairs, how the small hole and shut the door to the basement. She heaved up the large portrait and let it hang on the nail. The light in this particular room wasn't very strong, so the shadows in this painting seem deeper, especially around the woman's face and eyes. Dawn didn't move away just yet, this was the first time she actually stood and took a good look at this woman. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver lighter, intending to inspect the painting further.

Dawn didn't know why this portrait suddenly interested her. It didn't dawn on her (no pun intended) that this might hold keys to her past. A past she didn't know; one that went farther than leaving in the orphanage as a girl. She put the flame near the painting, but not too close to scorch it. She made note of the paleness of the woman's skin.; she looked like a ghost, almost. Her 20's bob hair cut was perfectly straight, but Dawn could tell that she had to use a lot of product to get it that way. On the left side of her bangs, a faint grayish imperfection of her hair could be seen. This was the first time Dawn ever noticed this and was perplexed she hadn't earlier. With the light shining on it in that way, it was apparent. The dark silver hairs went down her short cut-off bangs and off to the side fading to the blackness of her hair.

It might've been the sketchiness she was currently in – thanks to the E – but when she traveled the flame over her eyes she could've sworn she saw those eyes before. They were completely black, and soulless. They had an air of something cynical like they knew what Dawn did, and liked it.

Quickly Dawn doused the flame and backed away from the portrait giving it a curious look. She shook her head and lit it up again, but this time around the frames to look for any kind of signature of the artist. There was no full name only a signature, and a date. _H.X. 1919_.

Dawn bit her lip and doused the lighter one more time. She gave the now shadowed portrait one last look before walking into the living room. The room where the blood of her foster father's blood – who's now in the bellies of 2 dozen fat men and women – once stained the floor. Thanks to her.

She was walking briskly towards the exit when she passed buy a round gold-painted mirror hanging on the wall. She saw in the corner of her eye a glimpse of a girl with brilliant golden blonde hair, and a pale face. Dawn paused, and took two steps back. Nothing was there, just her own reflection. Her blue-gray eyes. Her own pasty complexion. Still she walked over to the mirror, and when she got closer, and the reflection started to get wider with every step – she saw it. No, more like _her_.

A face as pale as Death, sunken eyes, and irises the colour of spring green. Beautiful curls of blonde hair cascade around her slender shoulders, with some parts matted with red. The side of her cheeks had dried up blood and scabs. Her clothes were a black jacket and ripped up jeans with large patches of burgundy. But what really stood out at the moment, was the large gash across her neck, and yellowness of her hair. That yellow that was so familiar to Dawn that there was no way she could forget it.

"Abigail?" Dawn whirled around but saw that that spot was empty, unlike the reflection. She turned back around, and Abigail was now standing just behind her.

Dawn felt the tears sting at her eyes. She didn't know whether she should smile out of happiness or question her sanity. Maybe she truly is insane, and should just escort herself to an asylum right now. However, at this moment, all she wanted to do was weep in her sister's arms, and that was proven impossible even when she's staring directly at her.

"Abigail I—" Dawn is cut off when she saw the mirror-Abigail gently place a hand on her shoulder, and felt it.

(This song is called _Bleed _by Evanescence)

_"__How can I pretend that I don't see, what you hide so carelessly?"_ Abigail began. Dawn froze, "What…what are you talking about?"

_"I saw him bleed," _her voice was in whispers, but it felt like it bounced off the walls in smaller breaths.Dawn gasped inwardly and held onto her breath. She froze in her spot and turned away from the mirror, _"I must be dreaming…"_

_"We all live, we all die. That does not begin to justify you," _Abigail went on. Her voice just as haunting as before, but this time Dawn felt her breath on her own cheek, and the echoes of her voice fly across her ears in wisps.

Dawn collapses on her knees, eyes firmly shut, and hands covering her ears.

_"It's not what it seems, _

_Not what you think,_

_No, I must be dreaming!_

_It's only in my mind,_

_Not in real life. _

_No, I must be dreaming…"_

Then she heard another voice. A voice she thought she would never hear again. It was strong, and manly, one she grown accustom to over the years she lived here – It was Gabriel's voice. Though she could not see him, she certainly felt him. "_Hope you know I've got to tell someone_," he says, causing Dawn to open her eyes, and saw him standing there in his massive glory within the mirror. His stomach ripped open exposing his intestines, his throat slit open in a red gash, the blood seemingly never ending as it fell from the gap like a waterfall.

_"Tell them what I know you've done_," he continues, _"I fear you, but spoken fears can come true…" _His voice drifts away, and so does his mangled form in the mirror. Dawn was still desperately to cover her ears from the haunting sounds of Abigail's voice, but that did not help.

She saw Abigail bent down, hand on her shoulder, and lips next to her ear.

_"We all live, we all die. That does not begin to justify you…"_

The tears stinging her eyes finally fell from their prison. Dawn desperately tried to take Abigail's hand and lock eyes with her long-lost sister, but her hand only landed on her own shoulder, and Abigail avoided Dawn's eyes like the plague.

"Please," she begged, "_It's not what it seems… Not what you think. No I must be dreaming!"_ Dawn swallows, and looks up at the heavens as if to ask why this was happening. Why her, why now... why Abigail. _"It's only in my mind, not in real life…No I must be dreaming!"_

Again, Abigail begins the verse again. This time it's softer, and stretched like the wisps scratching at Dawn's ear drums were caught by wind. _"We all live, we all die… That does not begin to justify you…" _the voice was so soft, it could've been a memory. Abigail's ghost slowly disappears leaving a trail of small whispered words left to haunt the alive sister. _"I saw him bleed," "We all die," "Spoken fears can come true…"_

All Dawn could do was crawl in a fetal position, arms covering her ears, eyes tightly shut, and body rocking back and forth. Muttering to herself, _"It's not what it seams, not what you think. No, I must be dreaming…It's only in my mind, not in real life. No, I must be dreaming…"_

"I must be dreaming… I must be dreaming…"

Sweeney was fuming. Furious and distressed at this new piece of unwanted information. He paced back and forth in the apartment, floor creaking every so often when he went over the spot where the hole once was. The hole he made to toss his victims in. He pictured Turpin's body falling into the darkness and hitting the hard floor on top of his beadle. And his… Lucy. The body of his wife and love…The one he made motionless by his own hand.

Suddenly a wave of depression indulged him. He collapsed on an arm chair and put his hand to his head. He kept picturing her face. Her delicate white face and yellow hair like threads of gold silk. The blemishes that took over her ivory skin, the knots in her once-silky hair, the dried blood that stained her slender neck, and the slit that he made with his own hand. His own razor – his friend.

It's only been a few weeks since he was here… And for a moment, only a moment, he thought he left the past. But slowly it came back to haunt him. Why did he have to read Lovett's diary…

Then he heard something from beneath him. Something that sounded like moaning, or crying. He remembered Miss Hastings was still downstairs. It wouldn't take this long to stuff bags with ground up flesh. He got up from his arm chair and out the door, down the stairs and burst into the bar (after unlocking it of course). He followed the sounds of weeping into the living room, the first thing he saw was Dawn huddled in a ball on the floor under the mirror.

"Miss Hastings?" he calls, but she was muttering things under her breath, she didn't hear. Sweeney decided not to press on; Dawn looked like she was having a panic attack.

He bends down, intending to pick her up. When he starts to wrap his arms around her waist, she begins thrashing wildly. Sweeney tries to keep her calm by saying it's only him, but she still cries out loud.

Dawn's eyes open at last, but what she sees isn't Sweeney. This Sweeney had wild hair, and a manic look in his black eyes. Black eyes she remembers she seen before. Across his neck was an identical slash as Abigail's and Gabriel's. He had a smile on, as if he didn't care. Dawn was too frightened. Should she burry her face into this mad-man's chest? Or fight against him. She continued to weep, bowing her head to look at her unclenched hands. They were trembling uncontrollably and drenched in red dye. She suddenly felt like Lady Macbeth, in Shakespeare's Scottish play. Dawn now understood Lady's insanity, her guilt. She understood her own insanity, and guilt. It was something she couldn't turn back from. She killed Gabriel, and a few other innocent people. Dawn was a monster, as the person she now was in the arms of.

The hostess lifted her gaze up at Sweeney, this time silent, and his face no longer had a look of madness, but a look of concern. The gash upon his neck disappeared, but the blood on her hands still stained the skin. Something told Dawn that it was never going to wash away.

"Am I dreaming?"

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**A/N: Oooooo…. A lot has been revealed here! Now you all know the purpose of Elizabeth, as well as a little bit of the mysterious painting. I found this chapter really dramatic…and I like it. Haha. Well I hope you liked this chapter, wrote it in two days, so it's not a lengthy piece of work, but it'll do. Oh yes, and PLEASE VOTE IN MY POLL! Lol, only 5 people voted. C'mon! I know that more people go onto my profile! I can see it in my stats! Helllloooo. I also made a Family Tree for this story, because even I'm having trouble remembering who's related to who. But I'll post it when this series is over, so it will explain more clearly (it'll be in my profile as well). Oh and I also made a BETAreader account. So if y'all want some editin' done, just hit me up. Alright, time to go. Love ya! Xoxox. **

**HarrowingGothling: Actually the police play a vital role in this. Like in the original movie, the Crow. Especially Kevin – Keep an eye out for him. **


	19. Ch Nineteen: Grotesque Burlesque

**The Crow: Care for a Shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll put the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

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Chapter Nineteen: Grotesque Burlesque

Sundays are never crowded, even when Gabriel was in charge. _Dusk 'Till Dawn_ closed at 5 pm that day, as everyone went home to spend it with their families, or finish delayed homework, or what have you.

Last night after Dawn had her nervous break down, Sweeney had carried her up to the apartment, and laid her onto the pink bed. The barber didn't sleep at all last night, all he did was sit on the arm chair and stared somberly at the floor. _Am I dreaming? _Dawn's last words before she passed out ran through his head all night. What if this was a dream? And he didn't really die? No, this was certainly real… actually the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he's going to have to stay here forever and live a new life. Part of him wanted to, so he could help his hostess through her years, but the other half just wanted to lay in a grave and sit in his hell as he should be. He had an unfulfilled mission here – he didn't meet his decedent. She died before he could even exchange words.

After they closed up the bar, the two went up stairs. They had no killings today, seeing as most people were already clean shaven having a peaceful family meal. Once they stepped into the threshold, Dawn turned to the older man. "Sweeney, I need to talk to you."

"What is it?" He asked in a monotone voice. He had his back facing her as he pulled off his jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair.

"Do you remember that box we found…next to Abigail?"

Sweeney paused as if thinking, "the one with the nude woman on it?"

"Yes," she replies, fishing into her pocket looking for the box of matches.

"What of it?"

"I was thinking that it might lead us to Abigail's murderers," She got out the pink box and turned it around in her hands where she spots the address.

"How do you know if that's even the killers'?"

"It's worth giving a try, Mr. T. Please, I don't want to wait here, and expect them to come waltzing into the bar."

Sweeney gave her a hard look, "then how would you notice them at this place?"

Dawn swallowed, "I'll know. I'll see it in their faces, their eyes. Please, Sweeney. You avenged your wife and daughter by slaughtering that judge; you cannot keep me from having my own satisfaction."

The barber stared at her long and hard. He swallowed and nodded, "yes, fine. But how are we going to get this place?"

A smile appeared on the young woman's lips, "don't worry, I have that covered."

Half an hour later, the couple was walking down the street towards a small storage facility. Sweeney was wearing his usual attire, save for the ankle-length leather trench coat with the collar popped. Dawn, on the other hand, wasn't wearing heels or pumps, but a pair of biker boots, loose leather pants, and a black wife-beater.

"Care to tell me where we're going?"

Dawn looked over her shoulder at Sweeney, who had his hands stuffed in his pocket and face hidden behind the collar of his jacket.

"To get Xena," she said simply.

"Who the bloody hell is Xena?

"You'll see," she pulled out a key once they got to the storage place, and slid it through the lock of one of the small garages. She pulled up the garage door revealing a sleek silver BMW R1200RT (might want to Google it).

"What is that?" Sweeney walked a bit closer peering at the particular hunk of metal.

"That is Xena. Besides the _Wing_, this was Gabriel's pride and joy. He took this baby cross country one year; me and Abigail stayed at his mom's house in Ipswich – horrid woman. Glad she's dead," she stole a look at Sweeney and saw he was thoroughly confused. "Think of it as a mechanical horse."

Driving down the streets of London, taking sharp turns in what felt like the speed of light. Sweeney clutched onto Dawn's waist instinctively and pressed his cheek against her back. This was nothing like a horse, Sweeney noted, it was faster than a carriage with 8 horses pulling it along. The barber's stomach churned every time Dawn made a sharp turn into an alley, sliding across the cobblestone roads almost tilting this "mechanical horse" over.

Finally the horse from hell stopped, however Sweeney didn't unlatch his hold from Dawn's waist.

"Uh, Mr. T? You can let go now, we've stopped."

"Have we?" He says, his grip loosening. Then cautiously he unwraps himself from her and opens his eyes. His head was spinning, which he had to stop by blinking several times. "C'mon, get off," Dawn says.

Slowly the barber got off trying to balance himself and the dinner in his stomach. Dawn got off after him and looked at him slightly amused, "Are you going to be alright?" She smirked.

Sweeney nodded clutching his stomach. "Next time, I'm walking."

After Sweeney found himself, the two made there way around the area, but the street only had small grocery stores, sushi bars, and a bank. "You said it would be here," Sweeney said looking at the stores expectantly.

"Well, the street corners are on the box, so it should be here somewhere—"

"Shh," Sweeney put his gloved hand over Dawn's mouth. He heard two or three people babbling down the street. He pushed Dawn and himself in a narrow alley and watched two women and one man talking. These folks stuck out in a place like this – the men was dressed in a dark purple suit, and the women wore matching one piece leopard and zebra striped skirts with a sleeveless top.

"That's a bit suspicious," Dawn hears Sweeney say as the threesome walks into the bank. Dawn noticed that the windows were tinted and the title of it was _Gary Bolton Bank of Northern London, _the G and the B of Gary Bolton's name was the only thing glowing a florescent fuchsia pink.

"C'mon," Sweeney says once the door is closed. They cross the street, and Sweeney peers into the tinted window vaguely seeing the three talking to a large man. "There's a guard," he notes.

"It's probably a bouncer. If it's an underground strip club, they will ask for a password," Dawn looks at the matchbox. The undead man turns to look at her oddly, "bouncer?"

"Here," she points out after opening the box where it says "Pass: Green Finch and Linnet Bird."

It might've been déjà vu but those words seem vaguely familiar to Dawn. Like a song she heard someone sing. Dawn shook her head, "let's go."

They walked in just in time for the three people to exit in the back. The duo walks up to the counter were the bouncer was, "Green Finch and Linnet Bird," Sweeney answers. However the bouncer doesn't let them pass, instead he says:

"A sign on the barber's door says "I shave only those who do not shave themselves". Does the barber shave himself?"

Dawn looks over at the barber that stood next to her. The fact that the riddle was about a barber was a mere coincidence, but Sweeney took advantage of it. He leaned back in thought and licked his bottom lip before answering. "There is no answer, it is a paradox."

Dawn looked over to the bouncer to see his reaction. With a nod he said "right," and stepped aside and let them through. Once they were at least two meters away from the bouncer Sweeney whispered into my ear "stay close."

We followed the narrow hallway and stair case that l led them down stairs and to a steal door. Sweeney extended his arm and turned the knob and the couple entered a pink and green smoking room. The smoke rose high to the ceiling, the room itself was larger than what the bank looked like from outside. There were two floors, the bottom one was where the stage was, complete with poles, and separate tables for those who want a private lap dance. Men were sitting around the tables, but the stages were empty, the poles didn't have any thighs wrapped around them. Infact there were no girls.

The top floor, as Dawn could see was for VIP guests, the elite, and probably for the owner itself. The railing was made out of stiff chains, and around them was pink, green and black pillows all lying on the floor. There were even a couple of men lounging on the floor, Dawn could see. But that was all she could see, because the rest was hidden with a black curtain all around.

"Where d'you think yer goin'?"

Sweeney and Dawn spun around to see a large dark-skinned man, who Dawn assumed to be a guard or another bouncer. "To a table?" Dawn raised an eyebrow.

"All the girls go into the back for the show."

"Oh, but I'm not going to be –"

"All girls that come here are in the show. I'm assuming this is your first day?"

Dawn hesitated before nodding. The guard nodded as well and turned to Sweeney, "Sir, since you are a host for this lady, you'll be in the VIP section and have a birds eye view of the show."

Sweeney didn't say anything, but Dawn was giving him a horrified look which got worse when he nodded in a okay. "C'mon miss," the guard took her by the shoulder and then gave Sweeney obnoxiously large key. Dawn turned her head before Sweeney was out of sight and sent him a glare. "Don't worry," Sweeney mouthed and made over to the VIP door to the stairs.

Dawn tore her eyes away and watched as the large man led her through a hallway of curtains and around the back. "So, is that your dad or something?"

Dawn gave him a look, "he's my boyfriend."

"Really? 'Cause you's two look a bit alike."

"How so?"

"Well yer both as pale as death, tha's for sure."

Dawn rolled her eyes and wanted to say that they lived in London, the place where the sun seemed to be afraid of, but he shoved her through flaps of curtains and magically Dawn was in a new room. A room filled with girls, dressers, racks of clothes, mirrors, and –

"Drugs!" Her eyes went wide at as a 'waitress' was walking through the girls holding a silver platter of a mountain of powdered cocaine and several rolled up bills for snorting. The waitress smiled at her, "would you like a line miss?"

Dawn blinked, "I think I'm going to like it here."

A slender hand wrapped it's fingers around a crystal wine glass. The maroon liquid lapped at the sides as the hand raised it to a pair of full lips. Felix sat in his kingly chair, legs laying on the back of a statue of a woman on all fours. His pale complexion contrasted with the dark magenta velvet chair he sat on. His giant mane of black hair framed his face like a lion, and a large stripe of white sprouting on the left side of his forehead stuck out against his hair perfectly. His long face and strong features were adorned by a perfectly trimmed goatee and lines of a mustache on his top lip. His eyebrows were full and fierce and beneath them were his eyes. Eyes that penetrated the very soul -- one was a deep brown, almost black, the other was a pale blue like the sky during a cloudy day.

His long white pointed nails tapped on the glass as his fixed his gaze in front of him. Surrounding him was several sofas and chairs that currently was occupied by special hosts and his cronies. The hosts were people that brought in the girls, which were either their daughters, sisters, girlfriends, wards, or in some cases their mothers. Grotesque Burlesque was a place for women as much as it was for men. Usually the women that are brought here are more than willing and have a fetish for things such as this.

Felix tilted his head back in his private room. The room was shield with black curtains and on the left side he could part them and have a clear bird's eye view of the stage and the show.

A head peered through the flaps of the curtains, "Boss?"

Felix looked up, "Yes, TJ?"

"She's here, sir. The girl you wanted. She brought the guy with her."

"Where is she?" It didn't show it on his expressionless face, but a twinge of excitement welled in his chest.

"She's in the show, boss. And he's up here."

"Send him in when the show starts."

TJ nodded, "yes, boss." And disappeared in the flaps of the curtains.

"Show starts in 5 minutes girls!" A butch lady shouts.

Dawn looks around at the other girls. She potted the two girls in matching animal-print skirts a while back, and found out that their names were Sugar and Taffy. Dawn wanted to ask if those were their real names, but she didn't want to offend her only friends she made here. Well not really friends, but she felt she needed to, to feel comfortable.

Dawn looked at her reflection. Several people attacked her after she took a nice helpful line of coke, bombarded her with make up, clothes, and hair products. They even cut her bands in a fringe (despite her constant protests), so now her mass of hair was tamed and curled and she looked like a splitting image of Bettie Page. Her lips were a smacking red, cheeks flushed with a red blush, and eyes cleaned of any black eyeliner and only long black eyelashes.

"Is the theme 50s or something?" Dawn asked as she fiddled with her new bangs.

"Nope," She heard Taffy say. Dawn then took the time and noticed her outfit – she was dressed up as Cleopatra, and her companion, Sugar, was dressed in Victorian undergarments.

_Well I bet Sweeney will enjoy Sugar's outfit, _she thought.

Dawn looked down at her outfit; she wore a one piece skirt that barely covered her bum. It was shiny black with a sleeveless top but it still shouted some sort of class. Her legs were adorned in fishnet stockings, and feet in black pumps.

The show started, but it wasn't her turn. After Taffy's, then sugar's, and then this other girl dressed up in a Kimono, it would finally be hers.

20 minutes passed, and the butch girl had already pushed Dawn behind the curtains that will soon open and reveal her to the club.

She heard the announcer do a little introduction, but Dawn wasn't paying any attention. She was too busy thinking over what she will do on the stage. Something 50s, something pin-up, something—

It was too late, the curtains pulled away from each other, and smoke gathered at her feet.

(This song is called _Candy Man_ by Christina Aguilera)

From a distance a man shouted, "_Tarzan and Jane were wingin' on a vine_," then two woman with old-time microphones placed in front of them sang, "_Candy man, candy man._" Dawn swallowed, glad that her silhouette was only seen through the fog, but she knew she couldn't be here for long.

"_Sippin' from a bottle of vodka double wine,_" the man sang.

Then the two girls snapped their fingers and whispered into the microphone, "_Sweet sugar coated candy man_."

Dawn swallowed and strutted on the stage trying to not trip over her pumps.

_"I met him out for dinner on a Friday night,  
He really had me working up an appetite.  
He had tattoos up and down his arm,_

_There's nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm.  
He's a one stop shop, makes the panties drop.  
He's a sweet-talkin', sugar coated candy man._

Dawn had a microphone in her fingers still as she stopped at the pole in the middle of the stage. The cocaine was now kicking in, and the adrenaline started to swell up in her veins. Then the girls repeated "_A sweet-talkin', sugar coated candy man."_

_"Ooh, yeah._

_He took me to the Spider Club at Hollywood and Vine,  
We drank champagne and we danced all night._

Dawn arched her back against the pole, rocking her hips back and forth slowly squatting down.

_"We shook the paparazzi for a big surprise,  
the gossip tonight will be tomorrow's headline._

He's a one stop shop, make my cherry pop.  
He's a sweet-talkin', sugar coated candy man.  
A sweet-talkin', sugar coated candy man.

She straightened up and strutted around the stage walking over the 5 and 10 pound quid's passed by the men, still singing:

_"Se bop bow.  
Hey yeah._

_Se bop bow.  
Hey yeah._

_  
He's a one stop shop, makes my cherry pop.  
He's a sweet-talkin', sugar coated candy man oh.  
A sweet-talkin', sugar coated candy man._

Woo yeah!

She stopped randomly and squatted down next to a cute looking boy, then got on her knees, with her skirt purposely rising close to the waist line. "_Well by now I'm getting all bothered and hot,_" she slid on her thighs then sat on her bum and put one leg on either side of the boy. _"When he kissed my mouth he really hit the spot. He had lips like sugar cane— " _the boy made a move with his hand to touch her thigh, but she placed her foot on his chest and sung, "_good things come to boys who wait_," and pushed him causing him to fall backwards.

Then she stood up and walked the cat walk to the back to give those men a little more attention. The girls in the back began to chant "Candy man, Candy man." And then the man came back with, "_Tarzan and Jane were wingin' on a vine_, _Sippin' from a bottle of vodka double wine"_

_"Candy man, Candy man…"_

_"Sweet sugar candy man"  
_Then Dawn went_, "He's a one stop, gotcha hot, making all the panties drop"  
_The girls in the background, _"Sweet sugar candy man"  
_Dawn took center stage again and swung around the pole in an erotic manner_, "He's a one stop, got me hot, making my uh pop"  
"Sweet sugar candy man"  
"He's a one stop, get it while it's hot, baby don't stop"  
"Sweet sugar candy man"_

"_He's got those lips like sugar cane—_" She slid down the pole again and lifted herself up, "_—Good things come to boys who wait_," and kicked a man's glass across the isle. Then she tore around and strutted back up a little farther from the center pole. The girls are singing in the background: _"He's a one stop shop with a real big uh, He's a sweet-talkin', sugar coated candy man."_

Then Dawn goes, "_say what?_"

"_He's a sweet-talkin', sugar coated candy man."_

_"Say?"_

_"He's a sweet-talkin', sugar coated candy man."_

_"Woo!"_

_"He's a sweet-talkin', sugar coated candy man."_

She pulled the microphone at least a foot away from her mouth and sang the longest highest note, "_YEAH!! Ooh, whoa!_" In the background the girls continued to chant, "_Candy man, candy man_."

Then as Dawn strutted back up the stage towards the drawn curtains the man in the background began his singing again, but 2 or 3 other men with him repeated after.

_"Tarzan and Jane were swingin' on a vine"  
"Tarzan and Jane were swingin' on a vine"  
"Sippin' from a bottle of vodka double wine"  
"Sippin' from a bottle of vodka double wine"  
"Jane lost her grip and down she fell"  
"Jane lost her grip and down she fell"  
"Squared herself away as she let out a yell"  
"Squared herself away as she let out a yell…"_

The music died down and Sweeney stood at his place behind the railing watching everything that occurred. He was well aware of Dawn's promiscuous behavior, but did not know that she was capable of a show like that. He didn't even know that her lungs could hold a note like that. It was so deep, so long, so high, all in one. He barely even noticed that there was a hand resting on his shoulder.

"Enjoyed the show did we?" Felix whispered, a sly smirk on his face.

Sweeney did not say anything about the show, just tore his face away from the stage, and let the curtains fall back into place so he no longer could see it. "How do I know what you are telling me is all true?"

"Can you not tell, Mr. Todd?"

Sweeney swallowed and looked at another direction for a bit then back at him. "What do you want?"

"Your little hostess down there has something I want. I don't want to cause more of a fuss that I already have – believe me, I did not ask my loyal but irrational minions to do such a thing to a lovely young lady. I just want Dawn for a moment, and the thing she possesses."

"Which is what, may I ask?"

"Just a portrait. A portrait by a man named Hunter Xavier."

"Who is that?" Sweeney had a somber look on his face, similar to the one when it dawned on him that his wife Lucy was gone forever, that day in the field with Mrs. Lovett.

"He is the husband of the woman that the portrait is of. They are also my great-grandparents."

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**A/N: OH MA GOD?! CLIFF HANGER?! –seizure- Lol, I'm sorry it took so long. But I made it up for making it really long and finally revealing what Felix looks like. I thought he was mysterious for too long. Anyway, I posted a visual picture of him in my profile… and I did base his character off of the guy in the photo, that's why they look exactly alike. And man, he is S-E-X-Y. I just wanna… ROAR – glomp – ANYWAY, I put another selection on the poll, because I got a good idea for a short Covenant series. SO VOTE MY LOVELY READERS! Oh and I wrote a story on my fiction press account, it's based on a true story. It's only a one shot, so it'll be a short read. Just put my SN name in the search engine: ****xGHOST69. Happy readings, xoxo. Review, vote, love.**

**Xpunkiex: You know I can't tell you if Sweeney has to go back to the grave or not. But the fact that this is a ToddxOC fic shows that Sweeney and Dawn do have a little romance goin' on, lol. As for Kevin… Well you're going to have to keep reading ;) **

**Jonzol: It depends on the reader, if they consider this a revenge or redemption series. I like to think it's both, but you can be the judge of that when it's over. If I told you the main theme of the series, then it would just give the secret out. And I didn't even know there was a Crow show series – raises eyebrow – it wasn't good was it? And I can't tell you WHEN he puts on the make up, lol. But I can tell you it will happen. **


	20. Ch Twenty: Beyond Redemption

The Crow: Care for a Shave

**The Crow: Care for a Shave?**

**Summery:**

**The Crow/Sweeney Todd Cross over. ToddXOC. **

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right; or in this case, fix a mistake that shouldn't have happened.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Sweeney Todd, or The crow. If I did, I wouldn't be typing this on a shitty ass computer. I also don't own the songs that are going to be 'sung', since it is a musical. I'll put the title and who's it by before I start typing the lyrics. But I do own my OC's and this idea.

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Chapter Twenty: Beyond Redemption

"Did you see her? She was all over me!" Jamie laughed, "Are we allowed to have fun with the girls after the show?"

Donald rolled his eyes, "newbie," he muttered. "She kicked you off your rocker, literally, kid. I don't think the lass would be interested in you. What with you grabbing her thighs and shit."

Eric felt like kicking them both in the back of the heads, "you idiots."

The two looked at him strangely. "That was Dawn, you fools. Where is she? Felix would want her now. It's our chance."

The two cronies looked at each other, "I guess no fun with the girl then?" Jamie said sheepishly. Donald rolled his eyes and smacked the kid in the back of the head.

They all walked towards the back of the stage, and through the labyrinth of curtains. Just as they were to step into the girls' change room a large butch-woman roughly shoves them back out.

"No boys allowed," she growled.

Eric's eyes shone with annoyance, "we're Felix's boys. Let us in."

"I dun' care if you're the royal guard here to be part o' the show. There be no boys back 're – only Felix himself can enter here with or without my permission."

Eric made a move to smack the butch woman, but Donald quickly grab a hold of his shoulder. At that moment a girl with pretty black curls and a fringe of bangs came up behind the butch woman.

"Darla, is there any more—Eric?" It was Dawn. She was now out of her skimpy dress and only in the lingerie she wore underneath. "What are you doing here—" She cut herself off again, as she felt her mouth drop. Of course, why hasn't she thought of it before?

"You—You…" Eric smirked at her lack of words. He knew what was going through her mind right now, and worse of all, he had no remorse.

"C'mon darling, don' fret over these perverts," Darla, the butch woman says as she pushes Dawn back inside the dressing room.

Once the flaps were closed Dawn lost her sanity, "Gr! I'm going to kill him! No! First I'm going to rip off his eyelids, and castrate him right in front of his eyes! _THEN_ I'm going to kill him!"

"Alrigh', alrigh', tha's enough of coke for you, miss! Go get dressed and your host will pick you up."

Dawn growled and stomped over to her lighted vanity and fretted over her fringe again, "stupid bangs. Stupid Eric," her fingers began to tremble, but not from anger, or sadness, just from pure anxiety that the coke was giving her. "Stupid drugs," she looked over to see the waitress again, this time her silver platter held small glass shots, and small paper cups that held one and half pills of MDMA. Dawn made note that they were a light pink colour, and all had a pentagram etched into the surface.

Dawn looked from the waitress, to the shot glasses of water and then to the pills, and then back again. "Stupid addiction," she snatched the paper cup and the shot glass so fast the waitress barely noticed.

It wasn't until 45 minutes later that Sweeney came by the girl's change room. The entire time he had been talking to the owner, Felix. The entire time he had been turning over all the things he said. It just couldn't be true, he insisted. But to get the proof he needed, Sweeney had to con Dawn into giving him that portrait of Felix's ancestor. How she got it was beyond him, but at this moment he just needed proof…but it was there in front of him, he was just in denial.

The barber had been standing outside just beyond the curtains of the girls' change room. The flaps opened up, and Dawn waltzed out with a lazy smile. "Hello, Sweeney," she said.

Sweeney narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his host as they both went to take their leave, "Is something wrong, Miss Hastings?"

Dawn giggled and smacked him on the arm playfully, "Oh, you're so proper, Mr. T. Call me Dawn, silly-willy."

"Are you drunk?"

"No! But close! Oh yeah," her smile turned into a grin, "I found out who the killer is!"

Sweeney didn't have to ask, he already knew the answer. But Dawn didn't know he knew, "who?"

"Eric! I should've known the prick did it!" She giggled loudly again and began to swing her limp-ish arms around.

"Then why are you happy about it?"

"I'm not!" She smiled, "I'm furious! I want to rip his fucking face off, Sweeney. But I can't get this grin off of my face!"

Sweeney stared at her contemplating her sanity. What did they feed her in there? She was going loony!

"Sweeney, have you ever tried drugs?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, "what kind of drugs, Dawn? Cocaine? Herbs? Medical…"

"YOU DO COCAINE?!"

"No, Dawn. If those are the ones you are insinuating, then no, I haven't tried any. Vile stuff, you can get add—" Sweeney cut himself off and then looked at his hostess. The odd behavior, those things that she religiously eats, or smokes. "Addicted," he finished.

"One day, Mr. T, I'm going to get you high."

"I happen to like the way I am on the ground, thank you."

The ride back home wasn't the best of experiences for Sweeney. With his intoxicated host on Xena, the so called 'mechanical horse', the drive there was enough to make the barber puke out all his vital organs.

Finally they arrived at Fleet Street, and after Sweeny empty out his stomach and caught his balance, the two went off into the apartment. Once they stepped inside, Dawn glided over to the couch and flopped down.

That night had been long for the both of them, and Dawn wasn't giving a second thought to not relaxing until tomorrow when she can discuss her findings.

"Aren't you going to get dressed?" Sweeney asks her from the bathroom as he removes his jacket and vest.

Dawn heaved a long sigh, and stretched in a very cat-like manner. "I should, but this couch just feels so damn comfy."

The barber rolled his black orbs and then ran water through his hair with his fingers. It had been a long night…should he ask her now of the portrait? When he looked outside, he saw her now standing up stretching her arms and bobbing around. No, not tonight. He won't ask her for the portrait now, tomorrow maybe. The question is, how was he going to ask her for it without sparking suspicion? Surely she would think it was odd that he just decided to take it and give it away for no reason.

After a couple of childish twirls, Dawn clumsily fell on top of her former purple bed. Sweeney at that time stepped out of the bathroom and crossed his arms at the sight. Currently, he was clad in his night wear, the only thing he could wear during his stay. Slacks, and a white baggy shirt Dawn had given him.

His eyebrows creased together as he watched his host toss around on the bed.

"I'm too tired to get dressed," she confessed, knowing what he was thinking.

"You can't sleep in your day clothes, Miss Hastings. Hasn't your mother ever told you that?" As soon as he said it, he regretted it, because a frown finally made its way on the fair-skinned woman's face.

"Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"No, no, Dawn. I-," he groaned and ran a hand down his sullen face, "I didn't mean it like that."

For a moment, Dawn didn't say anything, just looked back at him. True enough, it was a buzz kill, but she knew that he didn't mean anything bad when he said it. She nodded, "S'alright, Sweeney." She gave him a reassuring smile, "but as punishment for your carelessness with words, you've got to change me."

Sweeney gave her a strange look, "You're a grown woman, you can dress yourself," he turned his back to her as he started to remove his rings onto the nightstand next to the purple bed, and place his razors into their own little bed-case. "Besides, it is improper for a grown man to undress a woman that is not his wife."

Dawn made a 'pfft' sound and rolled her head to look at his back. "You live in a 21st century now, unmarried – or married! -- women and men have sex on the streets."

"Not much has changed, then; they did that back in my day, too."

"So, then why are you being a prude about it?"

"I'm not being a prude. I just don't want to – are you not capable of changing and undressing yourself?"

"Not at this very moment, no," she replied. A secret smile creased her lips as she pulled off her shirt and flung it on the floor next to the unsuspecting barber. "Look! I've started you off!"

"What—" He turned on his foot to see what she was talking about, but his foot stepped on the discarded shirt causing him to slip onto the bed half on top of his hostess.

There was an awkward silence between the both of them, as Sweeney face was just moments ago buried in her bra-covered bosom. His face was raised now, and he looked back at Dawn's slightly shocked expression. Her cheeks were red, and her eyes slightly wide. Sweeney, seemingly incapable of showing colour in his cheeks, just scanned her face, own creased in such a way that clearly stated that he was thinking.

Those eyes of hers… Sweeney just noticed. They're so familiar. In fact, the familiarity was almost haunting. Where had he seen those eyes before? Suddenly his mind was bombarded with that same feeling of memories flashing before his eyes. Scenes of yellow hair under a bonnet; Johanna in that lad costume being roughly pushed onto his barber's chair; Mrs. Lovett asking if he remembered what Lucy looked like…

The flashbacks ended sharply, and Sweeney found himself back in the same possession on top of Dawn Hastings. However, he now noticed that his nose was touching hers, and both his, and her eyes were slowly falling shut. It was long after that, that Sweeney felt two hot dry lips on top of his own.

Dead in the night, rain started to pour down on London. Thunder pounded on doors and rattled windows, and strikes of lightening pierced the gray clouds and reflected itself against mirrors and glass. A man with a similar strike of white lightening in his hair stood at his large panel window in his Aristocratic bedroom. Felix wasn't one for sleeping, if he did, he only got 5 hours of sleep. One would think that wasn't healthy, but Felix wasn't like any Average Joe.

A glass of wine in his hand, he stood watching proudly over his city. Yes, his city; to him he believed he owned all of London. And to some extent, he did, but that wasn't what he truly wanted. He wanted what belonged to him, and in just a few hours, he will get it. He will get his possession, as well something so much precocious to him.

Years he has been searching, and finally now, thanks to one of his recklessly cronies, he found what he had been searching. The one person to make his life complete, gave it meaning. He might not be able to keep this person, but the fact that they will know who he is makes it as great. Knows that he is there, he exists, and they are not alone.

(This song is called _Beyond Redemption_ by HIM)

"_Oh I see your scars, I know where they're from.  
So sensually carved and bleeding until you're dead and gone…_

He walked down the room, placing his goblet on a dresser. His two coloured eyes never leaving the city below him, the sound of snapping thunder and the blinding light that bounced off his face caused by the crack of lightening.

_"I've seen it all before, beauty and splendour torn.  
It's when heaven turns to black and hell to white,  
Right so wrong and wrong so right,_

_Now!_

Felix leaned against the window pane, his fingers clutching onto the framing for support, his forehead pressed against the glass.

_"__Feel it turning your heart into stone,  
Feel it piercing your courageous soul.  
You're beyond redemption,  
And no one's going to catch you when you fall…_

Felix sharply turned around and paced around the room looking at each large portrait on the wall. One of a woman in dark blond waves of hair, and a man next to her with a brown mop of hair that clearly spelt out the 80s. The woman's stomach was large and round, showing that this painting was created a month or so before she gave birth. The others were of much darker individuals. Mostly of women with dark hair, and men who had a similar cut, but had a much cynical look to them. One of them was a women with her black hair in finger-curls, a pelt of fur around her neck, and a body untouched by age – clearly created before she had gotten married. The artist's initials at the bottom showed H.X., Hunter Xavier.

_"Oh I see you crawl, you can barely walk,  
And arms wide open, you keep on begging for more.  
I've been there before knocking on the same door.  
It's when hate turns to love and love to hate;  
Faith to doubt and doubt to faith,_

_Now!_

Felix walked down to the end of wall to the last and oldest portrait. It was a bit tarnished on the corners, due to its rough days. The frames were steal and twisted into vines sprouting flowers on the end. A yellow tint covered the canvas that came from age and lack of sunlight. The woman painted on it though was not blemished from the age, or from the rougher times. Long slender neck holding up a gentle heart-shaped face that was covered in ringlets of wheat-coloured hair and a bonnet to keep it all together.

_"__Feel it turning your heart into stone,  
Feel it piercing your courageous soul.  
You're beyond redemption,  
And no one's going to catch you when you fall…"_

The sun found its way through the bundle of clouds, and its rays shot down to London, that was patiently waiting for dawn to wake. The rays went through windows that were covered up in drapes, like the giant panel window above the bar on Fleet Street.

The rays shone light on the end of the purple bed, and then slowly crept up the sheets, that were tangled around 4 legs. The legs were entwined together along with the sheets, that were also covering the waists of the owners.

The bodies of Sweeney Todd and Dawn Hastings were no longer clad in any type of clothing. Their own bodies heating up each other as the sheets only covered their pelvis, their chests pressed together in a embrace. Sweeney's arms were tightly wrapped around the shoulders of his hostess, who's own arms were placed against his snow-white chest. Dawn's head was perfectly fitted in the crook his Todd's neck and jaw line.

The sun shone against there faces finally, but it seemed that Sweeney was the only one to wake up. He didn't unravel himself from Dawn's embrace, however, he just shifted in his spot to get a better look at her, stroking her flushed cheek with a single finger. A genuine smile, something he hadn't done for a while, creased his lips. Never in his right mind he would thought that this relationship would go to this length with Miss Hastings. To him, it used to be strictly business, a partnership of insanity that they both shared. Someone to share revenge with, to have something in common with another individual. Now it was totally different, this feeling was similar to those of the one woman he loved so closely, so dearly in his life. The one with the yellow hair, Lucy. But Dawn was defiantly no Lucy.

Not long after that thought, Dawn's eyes couldn't stand the light glaring at her through her lids. She finally opened her eyes and was completely content at the sight of Sweeney awake before her, staring back. For that morning, they didn't exchange much words, just laid in bed staring at each other.

The two couldn't stay in bed forever, so eventually both got up, took a shower (no, surprisingly not together), got dressed and trudged down to the bar. It wasn't opening just yet, so Sweeney pushed his earlier blissful moments behind him, and ask Dawn about the Portrait.

"Dawn?" He asked, as he coyly walked over to the wall where the painting hung.

"Hmm?" Dawn was in a particularly good mood that morning, and an idiot could tell why.

"Who gave you this portrait anyway?"

"'Dunno," she turned to look at it, "It was just with my belongings when someone dropped me off at the orphanage. It's a bit creepy, I mean, the woman anyway."

"It's a lovely portrait, maybe we could sell it?"

"Sure, I guess. There's probably others I could hang up there anyway," she paused, "but I would like to know why it was left to me…" An idea sparked in her mind.

"I'm sure Gabriel had the documents of my birth parents. Hold that thought, I'm going to look for them. Maybe it explains the portrait."

After 45 minutes of looking through mounds of crap in her former foster father's bedroom, she finally found a box filled with files in the back of his closet next to several boxes of porn magazines and videos. The top was Abigail's, which Dawn couldn't stand to look at, at that moment. Memories would just come flooding back.

She pulled out Abigail's documents, put it on the side, and there at the bottom was her own. She picked up the first one, which was obviously her birth certificate.

"Dawn Jean Hastings. Born June 6th, 1987 to Constance and Landon Hastings…"

* * *

**A/N: WELL! I could only imagine all the rage and hate you have towards me for taking so damn long. Well, it's the end of the school year, so I'm getting more work than I can handle, plus my prom just passed so I've been planning for that. Also, I've been writing this series so long, I've been slowly loosing interest. But good thing is that it's almost done, if it doesn't reach chapter 30, then just a bit under it. BUT I DID MAKE UP FOR my lack of writing by finally letting Sweeney and Dawn have their little passionate moment. Also, I've decided what order of series I'm going to do… Pirates after this. Then a small Halloween series. Pirates sequel. And a 300 after that, or a Harry Potter. I haven't decided. The last chapter of this series, I'll post the summery on the Author's note. **

**Xpunkiex:**** Again, I can't answer whether or not Felix is related to Sweeney. But I'm at that point of the story where I hope people catch on…the ending is either a "OMG I DIDN'T SEE THAT COMING" or a "I KNEW IT! OMG I KNEW IT!" ending. And Felix knew Sweeney's name because before the show he asked if Sweeney would come in when the show started – obviously they exchanged names. And by picture you mean the Portrait – well the Portrait is something Felix wants, and isn't clear why, besides the fact that it's a portrait of his mom. **


	21. Author's Note

UPDATE

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Alright, so, I have some bad news.

I'm like a kid, I get tired with things. And at this moment, I've ran my fic's plot over and over again in my head to the point where I'm tired of it. That's why I haven't been updating at all lately. And I apologies for that.

I won't be updating anytime soon, I'm sorry again. I need my groove back, which seems to be missing. I'll probably put up other fic's that I am currently into. But eventually, I'll complete this one. Just not as soon as I wanted to.

Again, I am sorry, and I'm sure you want to know what happens.

- G69.

ps. If you're going to throw something at me, please make it soft :3?


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